Again and Again
by icallitfunny
Summary: Season 5 re-write of Cristina and Owen's magical love story. Will mostly delve into C/O's own perspectives, with new scenes added here and there.
1. Chasing the High

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

It takes some time getting used to.

If ever there was a person to toss aside emotional baggage and pick up to start anew, it was Cristina Yang. Hurt, drama, and pain were merely words of the past and she was determined to never look back. It took over one full year to kick her shattered pieces to the curb and the only thing that firmly remained in her heart was her shell that was enclosed in a wall. A shield of protection that was tougher than a maximum security prison cell.

And all it took was one icicle and a set of blue eyes to break down those walls. One look from Owen Hunt's piercing blue eyes had the same effect as the icicle in her body. They pierced right through her body and soul; one gave her pain and the other gave her pleasure. Cristina felt highs and lows of sensations she had not felt in over a year in the five minute presence of Major Owen Hunt. The room was suddenly brighter, the pain slowly dissipated and her heart was beating once again.

* * *

Life has its share of surprises.

Owen Hunt had a plethora of life experiences in his bag that nothing took him for a surprise anymore. He lived life- enjoyed four years of college parties at Northwestern University, finished his M.D. at Harvard University, experienced every minute of the events of 9/11 and lived in the bloody desert for five years. He had his share of hook-ups, relationships—including one engagement—and deaths. Plenty of deaths. Life and death were not strangers to Owen.

One look at Cristina Yang set Owen back all those years he had had life in the palm of his hands. One look at the striking, fierce and courageous resident had his breath caught in his throat. He was acutely aware he was staring the moment she entered the room, but he could not bring himself to tear his eyes away from the wild curls that framed her beautiful face. All of the sudden, after all those equal encounters of life and death that passed in his life, he suddenly found himself wanting to live and afraid to die. His heart desired life with this striking women standing in front of him and shuddered at the fear that death will never give them the opportunity. He promised himself then and there, he will never let an opportunity with Christina Yang slip by his fingers whether it meant tomorrow or forty years from now.


	2. Ready or Not

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

Owen barely had any time to gather his thoughts before he found himself back in Seattle. He had been back for merely three days with nothing but his empty thoughts. His head was blank and empty. He came back a stranger in his own hometown. The heaviness in his heart knew better than to fool himself that he was clear and ready to be back. He eventually found himself at the only place that entered his mind. Owen walked into Seattle Grace Hospital at 5AM with a heavy heart but, surprisingly, light footsteps.

Cristina's alarm clock rang promptly at 5AM. What usually ensued in a snooze fest with Cristina and her alarm clock, Cristina woke up alert and in a surprisingly good mood. She lay in bed awake preparing herself for another long, but joyous, day at the hospital. She peeked outside the window from the corner of her eyes and saw that the outside world was dark and a bit gloomy, with the sun yet to rise at 5AM. For a brief moment, her mind flashed to Major Owen Hunt's face at the bar she had seen last night at Joe's. "Oh, for Christ's sake. What the hell are you thinking about?" muttered Cristina as she got herself up and ready for work.

* * *

"Now does anyone have a problem working with live tissue?" Owen asked the group of interns and residents before him. "Anyone? Speak Now."

"Live tissue?" "What's that?" There was a smatter of confusion from the crowd. The air was quickly cleared up when Dr. Hunt pulled back the curtains to showcase four 100 pound pigs. The silence was immediately filled by gasps as Dr. Hunt went down the pigs, stabbing them with his pocket knife followed by his orders, "Go ahead. Save their lives."

Izzie stared at Major Owen Hunt with anger and disbelief and did not hold back her tongue in voicing her opinion. "You're a monster. We can practice on surgical mannequins!" With that, Izzie took her stance and stormed out of the skills lab.

Cristina felt a smirk pulling up the right side of her mouth. Frankly, she was tired of performing on plastic, fake blood, patient-will-never-die operations on Stan. It took away from the rush, from the quick thinking that was required by surgeons. Now live tissue—that she can be excited about.

"In that case, who wants two pigs?" asked Dr. Hunt.

Cristina, never the one to miss an opportunity at work, stepped forward and shot her hand up, presenting herself to Owen the first time since their first encounter.

Owen could not believe he had completely missed her standing in this room. That and she was rather petite compared to the rest of the group. Without giving it a second thought, he quickly assigned Christina to two pigs and designated the other two to Dr. Karev and Dr. O'Malley.

* * *

"What was your name again?" asked Dr. Hunt. Cristina Yang was not a person to forget and no, he did not forget her name. It occurred to Owen that it would look incredibly suspicious if he remember Cristina Yang's full name whereas he could barely remember the two male surgeons he was introduced to this morning by Chief Weber. Besides, from the nonchalant air Cristina displayed, he was sure the kiss was forgotten as soon as he left the room.

Cristina could not believe Dr. Hunt failed to remember her name. Feeling incredulous and irked, she quipped, "Yang, Cristina Yang."

"Right," replied Owen the second Cristina said her name aloud. Fully aware of her name, Owen did not need time to register the name that remained with him during the last months of his tour. "Come take a look at this guy's pig. You see what he did? He stopped the bleeding and he can come back later and make things pretty. Meanwhile, your pig is getting acidotic and hypothermic. If this was some scrawny kid instead of a pig, he'd be dead by now."

"Quick and dirty, Christine," instructed Dr. Hunt. Oops. That was indeed a mistake. Although, he thought Cristine sometimes fit better than Cristina. The slightly more feminine name better shadowed her slim physique and her soft brown eyes that hid behind her tough exterior. Actually, he would have preferred to called her Cris. As he turned away to check on the final pig, he chuckled to himself at the thought of Cristina's reaction to him calling her Cris in front of her colleagues.

"Cristin-AH," corrected Cristina. This encounter affirmed Cristina that she was the only one to be reliving their moment. What she once felt was a special and dear moment they shared was a thing in the past. She was living in the past as a foolish girl hopelessly waiting for her Prince Charming. Her Prince Charming that hopped off his white horse, with no intentions of riding it anytime soon. "I'm done," she told herself.

* * *

"So, Major Owen Hunt is back! Did you get to talk with him? What did he say? Oh my god, did he kiss you again???" Meredith was shooting question after question to Cristina about Dr. Hunt in between bites of her BLT sandwich.

Meredith did not register the shut-up-or-die look by Cristina and went on, "I heard he stabbed the pigs during skills lab. Hm, what should we call him. McArmy? McTough? McRedHot?"

Cristina dryly answered, "McWho?" taking a long sip of her Diet Coke.

"McKiller!" screamed Izzie slamming down her lunch tray at the table. "We have the technology that doesn't require us to TORTURE live creatures. He is sadistic, inhumane. Killer! Cannot believe he is the head of the Trauma unit."

Alex pulled up a chair next to Izzie and chimed in, "Well, at least we're being reclassified as the number one trauma unit with Dr. Hunt as head. Besides he's kind of a badass, which we're in desperate need of. Shepherd's perfect hair and O'Malley's Bambi eyes drains all the testosterone in this hospital."

"Beep-Beep-Beep," the sound of Cristina's pager went off as she was halfway into a bite of her salad. "Oh, you have to be kidding me. I'm getting paged for bacon!?" sighed Cristina. "Well, enjoy your sandwich Mer while I go chest deep to cut out a tumor into the pig that your sandwich was cut out from." With that, Cristina walked away feeling satisfied bacon got to the way of two lunches and not just her own.

"Oh, I just lost my appetite," frowned Meredith. Done with her lunch, Meredith walked away and smiled, quietly muttering, "McBadAss… Yea, that's it…"

* * *

Owen found himself wandering in the basement looking for an isolated spot in the hospital. He needed to be alone, as thoughts were finally appearing in his head. He opened all the doors that he passed and found most of them to be locked. Feeling frustrated, he made a quick right and heard a buzzing from the room down the hall. Drawn to the noise, he walked up to the room and opened the door. He was met with a dull buzzing of the vent and gush of cool air flowed in the room. "Ah, this is it." Owen smiled and closed the door behind him.

Owen was amazed at the lack of respect and discipline the interns and residents had for their superiors. He came from a background where discipline and respect carried a soldier from one rank to the other. Colleagues, superiors and inferiors all addressed each other with correct titles and heeded to orders with no ands, ifs or buts. Seattle Grace was definitely not that kind of place. Everyone had a piece of their mind and not afraid to voice it despite their position in the hospital. Hell, he just got told off by Izzie Stephens, President of PETA for all he knows, for wanting to teach the students methods of how to save lives most similar to actual surgical procedures itself. He was also called out on by his colleagues, names he will sure remember by the end of the week, in front of his student on something that could have been handled with advice and not accusatory statements. Owen felt as if he time warped from one battlefield to another.

And then there was Cristina. It would be a lie if he did not think of returning to Seattle Grace without the thought of Cristina, his fingers in her unruly hair and the taste of her juicy pink lips. However, her display of coolness left him empty once again. He realized he was starting on a clean slate in his life, even with Cristina. He did not know what was real and what was in his head.

Owen sighed. It was hard to be back. Much harder than he expected. Actually, he did not have time to feel or think about being back until now. Now reality was sinking in. This was reality and Owen did not feel like a part of this reality. He felt right at home, in this loud cool vent, where no one can reach him, no one can see him and no one can feel him. But he got himself back to Seattle and in this hospital. He was damn determined to teach discipline and respect to Seattle Grace and vouched to remain professional. At all times.

* * *

"Terminate them. The pigs—kill 'em."

Cristina was at a loss of words as who this Owen Hunt person was. He WAS someone who in matter of minutes magically sparked life in her with his piercing eyes and fiery hot mouth. He filled her lungs with air and left her with a glimmer of hope that was put out by Burke. Now. NOW, he was indeed, as described by Izzie, a killer. Sadistic, pig stabbing, save them and terminate them killer. And an ass for not remembering her name.

Owen quietly followed Cristina till she stopped to lean against the railing, deep in thought. He felt a need to clarify his rationing. He could deal with Izzie thinking he was a murderer. Cristina—he strongly felt otherwise.

"Do you have any idea how much you just learned?" He was honestly proud of the work she pulled in to save all four pigs. "Those are massive injuries, months of recovery. To keep them alive after all that, that's not humane."

Cristina knew this wasn't all about the four pigs she worked on. In fact, it was mainly about the one pig who stood in front of her. "Seriously, you don't remember my name?"

Owen spun around, surprised she cared. She cared whether or not he remembered? She remembered, she cared? Thinking fast, he needed to explain. No, he wanted to explain. "The last tour I was on a forward surgical team. We, uh, treated combat causalities in the field. You're mostly just looking to do damage control—sedate 'em, ventilate 'em, airlift 'em to Baghdad, then get outta there. Only this time, we didn't get out fast enough because we ended up in the middle of an RPG Ambush. There were 20 people in my unit, including me, and 19 died. And then I got discharged. So… I'm not there anymore, in the before. I knew your name in the before. But now I'm living in the after."

Owen spat out the events that lead to his presence in Seattle Grace in one mouthful. This was the first time he vocalized what had happened to anyone outside of Iraq. First time to relive that moment in the real world. Air was thinning around him and he felt his throat tightening. He drew back, turned around and quickly fled down the stairs, away from his reality.

* * *

Cristina saw the detachment and pain in his eyes. No, he was not the same Owen who kissed her senseless 6 months ago. His actions that she deemed as asshole moves, she now saw as pained and tortured. She saw that he was not who he was. Yet… she could not shake off the feeling in the pit of her stomach. She cared and she had no idea why… and for what.

Owen clenched both his fists, a bit angry for sharing something personal so soon. He swore to himself that maintaining professionalism was the way for him to survive in this hospital. Cristina was dangerous. He felt himself being swallowed in her presence and not holding back with her looking at him with such defiant eyes. He was bound to break down in front of her. He looked at the dark sky and told his body and mind to keep his distance from Cristina Yang at all costs.


	3. Into the Other Side

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

Cristina fell asleep to Ellis Grey's journal and woke up an extra hour early to pick up where she left off. Time and time again affirmed why Meredith was her person. Hell to needing a man in her life—she found the perfect guilty pleasure she needed. The book contained kickass surgeries, tips on how to better maneuver surgical tools, and gossip. Lots and lots of gossip.

Owen knew it was the start to another day by the flow of interns and residents coming in through the doors in their light blue scrubs. He was losing track of time due to his three-day work shift. Of course he was not scheduled to be in the hospital for three days straight but he needed distractions. Owen was sick of tossing and turning in bed waiting for the morning to arrive. His mind and body were enemies with sleep and he was tired of fighting, so he decided to forego rest.

* * *

It was another gray morning at Seattle Grey's with Dr. Bailey barking assignments to her residents. "Grey and Stephens you're with Hahn, Yang the Pit, Karev and O'Malley get friendly with Stan. Oh, and the Chief will soon decide which one of you will get their first solo surgery. Be ready and do not, I repeat, do NOT, make me look like a fool in front of the Chief."

"Oh, great. Solo surgery is up for grabs and I'm stuck in the pit doing sutures," grumbled Cristina as she made her way down to the pit. Her ears perked up to the sound of ambulance sirens as she picked up her pace. She was greeted by the paramedics with an unidentified male suffering from massive external and internal injuries.

Owen was awaiting his trauma when Chief Weber walked into the room. "Dr. Hunt, listen we are getting ready to award the first solo surgery to a second-year resident. I want your take. You have fresh eyes. You don't know them personally. You don't have any history, any relationship. That perspective is rare here."

"I'll give it some thought," said Owen while feeling a ping of guilt knowing he already had one resident in mind–Cristina.

In matter of seconds, the room was filled with noise and action as the trauma patient was rolled into the room. "Unidentified male, mid-30s, lost vitals in the field, shocked him back into sinus tach, possible fractures in both arms, unstable pelvis, open right tib/fib, rigid abdomen. Cops think someone threw him over"

"After they beat him half to death?" asked Cristina. The unidentified man's injuries were serious and obvious it was an intentional act of violence. The fact that surgeons were needed to save lives that were purposefully inflicted by people angered Owen. Owen's thoughts were interrupted by Cristina's question to Chief Weber asking about the solo surgery. "His IV blew," Lexie commented even before Cristina was done asking Chief Weber.

"Yang, he needs that access now," stepped in Owen.

"Yes, I'm doing it, sir…" Cristina trailed off as Owen took over. _"Geez, give me a second to at least finish my question…"_ Cristina thought to herself.

"If you were less worried about winning contests, you might have thought of it." Owen was brought back to his resolution days before. He needed to teach these interns and residents. Trauma room did not have the luxury of time to ponder on the next medical action to take, and hours to read medical journals for research. Trauma was quick and dirty, and every second meant life or death.

* * *

Cristina knew she was in for a long day. Whatever she did seemed to get a reaction from Dr. Hunt. Everything she said worked against her and anything she did was too slow for Dr. Hunt. All the attendings were aware of Cristina's capabilities as a doctor. She was not used to Dr. Hunt's treatment of picking at her every word and action.

Owen knew Cristina was on the track to become a cardio goddess. Despite the fact he did not know her very well as a colleague, he was observant and picked up on how the other attendings held her in high regards. He only wished she would be less robotic in talking about her patients, even if the patient was in a coma. After all, alive, almost dead or dead, they were all humans like the rest of us.

* * *

Owen needed help with the Chief's request as his knowledge of the other second year residents was rather thin. He needed to be more observant of the other residents and decided to ask Callie for her input. "So the Chief asked me to watch the second years for the solo surgery. What's your take, as a class?" asked Owen.

"They're a mixed bag. Yang's really good. She's, uh, hardcore. She'll be a cardio god. She's my roommate, actually." Callie gave a quick glance at Owen remembering the stare she interrupted between Owen and Cristina when he first appeared at the hospital. Despite being fully clothed and standing at a reasonable distance from each other, Callie could not help but believe 5 seconds would have been the difference between finding them fully clothed or pants around the ankle. "Izzie is smart, good with patients, very compassionate… supposedly. She did sleep with my ex-husband while we were still married," Callie rambled on.

"You know what? I'm more interested in the doctor part." Owen was amazed at the fast turnaround of the rumor mill in the hospital. Here was this doctor he was barely even acquainted with, spilling what should have been a traumatic and embarrassing experience in her life yet the words flowed so effortlessly about herself and her colleague. _"Not my kind of town,"_ Owen thought.

* * *

Cristina took a glance at the X-Ray in her hands and was confident to present her take to Dr. Hunt. She briskly walked into the patient's room with Owen and Callie attending to the patient. She leaned closer to Owen and pulled the X-Ray scans towards her, while pointing out, "There's a splenic subcapsular hematoma…"

As Cristina leaned closer to Owen, he got a waft a light citron mixed with hints of cedarwood. This was too close for Owen as he was in no position to teach with her standing in the same space as him. "I can look. Go update his chart." Owen quickly cut Cristina off and took a step towards the scans on the machine, pulling himself away from Cristina.

* * *

"Mer, I'm having a bad day. Owen hates me! I don't know what I did, what I said, but he hates me!" complained Cristina while dragging Meredith away in the middle of her conversation with Alex.

"What do you mean he hates you? He kissed you. Twice!" asked the confused Meredith.

"There was no second kiss! What are you talking about–Alzheimer's gene kicking in early?" asked a frustrated Cristina. "Ugh, I don't know what I did, but I need to get off this case. He won the jackpot getting that first kiss from me. Lightning does not strike the same place twice!"

"I'm sure McBadAss has something up his sleeve…" Meredith's voice trailed as Cristina quickened her pace to find her way out of her hellish day remaining at work.

* * *

"You paged me Dr. Yang?" Mark Sloan does not disappoint when it comes to women. In fact, women are the easiest things he had to learn in life and he learned them early. Cristina was no challenge for a big boy like Sloan.

"Uh, yeah, patient, trauma one." Cristina answered distractedly while checking her email on her phone.

"Aw, you paged me for a consult? I was hoping you wanted to see me…" Mark sensed a cat and mouse game in play so he quickly took the next move.

"I did. The patient has a shattered nose and cheekbones and a fractured left mandible. Trauma one." _What was he deaf? This is exactly what I said the first time_. Cristina walked away feeling annoyed. There was no denying that surgeons were book smart, but boy, some of them seriously never took Common Sense 101.

* * *

"Sorry about before. Everybody's up in everybody else's business around here, you know?" Callie apologized to Owen for the tirade she launched on Owen.

"Better to keep things professional if you can." Owen's response was directed to Callie but his eyes spoke to Cristina, standing on the opposite side of the operating table.

Cristina scoffed at Callie apologizing to Owen. Since when did this hospital maintain such a high decorum? Was it when the intern slept with the married attending or when the intern miscarried the attending's baby and eventually left at the altar? No, it must have been when the married intern slept with his best friend. Although Seattle Grey ranked 12 as a teaching hospital, SGH was most definitely a coveted number one filming spot for day time soap series. She was shaken out of her thoughts when she felt heavy eyes peering in the dim room. She looked up and met Owen's intense eyes. Not quite sure what to make of the look they shared, Cristina gladly welcomed Mark's entrance to the OR.

"Dr. Yang, I know cracking chests is more your thing, but you'd be surprised how exciting it can be when I manipulate a little skin." Mark was determined to leave as many trails as possible before ending his night with a bang in the on-call room.

Cristina was so focused on suctioning the area for Owen to clamp that Sloan's words blended with the background and never quite reached her ears. Owen, however, heard every single word and intention as clear as day. He felt heat rising to his neck and as reflex, clenched his clamp tighter in his hand. There was no way he was going to let Sloan talk to Cristina that way. "Actually, Dr. Yang, why don't you just scrub out? We've got enough hands in here."

Cristina let out an exasperated sigh and walked out of the OR with her dropped shoulders. This was not her day.

* * *

Owen disliked Mark Sloan, no, he loathed Sloan and wished nothing but for Sloan to find someone more of his low-caliber to chase after. He had no respect for Sloan after hearing Sloan say to Cristina, "I've been hitting on you all day. What is wrong with you?" Not having respect was a professional way of addressing his feelings. In actuality, Owen was infuriated. Sloan's words provoked emotions that rose to his face. He was also bothered by Cristina's reaction to Sloan. She merely laughed it off. She took it lightly and gave a hearty laugh to Sloan's question. Owen questioned, _"Why am I so heated and serious about Cristina when everything in this hospital other than her work is all fun and games????"_

The last straw was when he saw Cristina and Alex fight over the failing patient like vultures. They were treating him as if he was a toy to fight over for Christmas. He thought, no he was sure, that Cristina would not take her patients lightly but to witness the two treating the patient as if he was already dead set the fire in Owen. "Just get out! Just get out of here…." Owen sternly ordered the three out of the room.

It took Cristina aback to see Owen so emotional over a patient they were trying to save, albeit difference in conduct. Cristina gathered the dirty materials and walked out of the room. She glanced back at Owen concerned that there was more to his blow up and he was clearly in fact bothered by something else other than the patient.

* * *

"You paged?" Cristina asked the nurse.

"The wife is here to ID her husband. Took awhile to get a hold of her but she's finally here," Nurse Penny informed Cristina.

Cristina took the beating patient's chart and walked over to the waiting room. No one had to tell her who the wife was. She walked over to an anxious lady sitting at the end of the waiting area. "Hello. I am Dr. Yang. I treated your husband today. You must be his wife." Cristina extended her hand for a handshake.

"D-Dr. Yang. Yes, hello. I'm Megan Bowman, Tom's wife. S-s-s-sorry it took me awhile to get down here," answered Megan.

"Mommy? Can we go see daddy now? I want to show him the dog I drew for him today. I think daddy will like it. I think daddy will get me the dog!" an excited voice peeped behind Megan. A small boy with messy brown hair was tugging Megan's shirt with one hand, clutching the drawing with the other. He was anxious for reasons other than his mom was.

Cristina took a deep breath when she saw the little boy. She saw the excitement, hope and joy in the boy's face. Cristina knew life would get the boy sooner or later, but Cristina wanted the boy to keep that face as long as he could, even if that meant mere minutes. Cristina asked Megan, "I can get the nurse to watch him for a bit while you go see Tom Bowman first."

Megan looked at Cristina with tears brimming in her eyes and faintly answered, "Yes, I think it's best if I see Tom first before explaining to Ryan."

* * *

Cristina's day was finally over. Wait, there was just one more thing she had to do–tell Dr. Hunt that the patient had been ID'ed and they were done as surgeons for the day. Cristina knocked on the door and said as quickly as possible to Dr. Hunt, "The wife's here of the beating victim. She ID'ed her husband so she wanted to…"

"What's his name?" challenged Owen with tired eyes. "They're all people, Yang. They're people and we get to save them. Now you're good. You're excellent. You could win all the contests but if that's why you're doing this, then you shouldn't be."

No, Dr. Hunt did not get away of deciding why Cristina chose to become a doctor. She hesitated after closing the door but knew deep down she wanted to tell him. She needed to share her story for the little girl who lost her dad when she was nine, and for the little boy who lost his dad today. "When he died… my hands… felt his heart stop beating. That's why I do this. It's also why I win all the contests. The patient's name is Tom." Cristina preferred for reasons to remain unspoken and let the actions do all the talking, but this time, in this moment, Cristina needed Owen to understand her story.

"Single malt scotch…" Owen's reflected on Cristina as she quietly left the room. Just like that, Owen felt his body drain, and his eyes and hands finally let go of everything he was fighting against.


	4. Suddenly I See

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

Hahn's departure from SGH left Callie an emotional wreck. She spent the night staring at the white ceiling until she heard movement from the living room. She stepped outside only to find Cristina stretching in her workout gear. Callie raised her eyebrow and asked, "Yang, what are you doing at 4 in the morning? The rooster's not even up yet."

"Going for a run," answered Cristina.

"Run? You run? I've been living with you for 5 months and this is the first time seeing you voluntarily choosing to move," Callie said while rubbing her eyes. "Oh, I get it. I know what this is. You're trying to look good for a certain _one_."

Cristina chose to ignore Callie's comment and stated, "There's something about today. I feel it. Hey, put in a good word for me to Hahn. She listens to you. I'm starting to forget what it feels like to hold a heart, let alone the shape of the damn thing."

"Hahn's gone," announced Callie as she shut her door.

* * *

"Morning, Dr. Hunt," greeted the yawning Dr. Bailey. "I've seen your face in this hospital more this week than I've seen the Chief's this whole month. If you found the secret to no sleep, please share, I'm interested."

Owen looked up from his patient's chart and gave a polite smile. "No, I just enjoy working. So who's in today?" asked Owen.

Bailey checked her residents' schedule, "Looks like you're in for a lucky day–we have the whole gang available and you get to choose first. Which mini-surgeon would you like on your service?"

"Hm…" Owen deliberately hesitated before answering, "Yang, I'll take Yang for the day." Truth be told, Owen could not get Cristina's tear filled eyes out of his head since their talk last night. Cristina's expressive eyes haunted Owen when he got home. He was finally able to get two hours of some shut eye and when he woke up, he found himself itching to see her face, just to confirm she was okay.

* * *

"No, I've heard of Virginia Dixon. She's got an incredible record. Really low mortality rate. Wait, why? Is she here?" Cristina pressed on, "Is she coming to the hospital?"

"Yea, today. Cool," Alex gloated. "I get to work with Virginia Dixon."

"Wait!" Cristina found something seriously wrong with this situation. "What? W-why am I not on the case? Why wasn't I assigned? You don't even know who she is!"

"Ionno," Alex shrugged. "Maybe the cat's out of the bag and you've been blacklisted from the Cardio world. Bye bye, Harper Avery." Alex smugly waved to Cristina while heading his way to the locker room.

"Ass," muttered Cristina. Her attention quickly shifted as Dr. Bailey came into her view, "Dr. Bailey! Dr. Bailey! I heard Dr. Dixon was coming to the hospital today. If I may, would you be so kind to assign me to Dr. Dixon's service?"

"You're in the pit, Yang," answered Dr. Bailey without slowing her pace to address Cristina's question.

Cristina felt as if she lived in the pit these days. She didn't mind it so much especially with cardio being a revolving door and a certain head of trauma certainly did help make the ER a tiny bit more interesting.

* * *

Cristina was instructed to wait for the incoming trauma when she got to the ER. She grabbed a trauma gown and stepped outside to the ambulance bay. The thin trauma gown strings always found a way to get tangled with her wild curls and Cristina somehow always managed to tie her hair and gown together. Being extra careful, she fiddled separating the two apart when she felt warmth from behind. She sensed a presence and before she could turn around to see who, she felt large, rough, but warm hands enclose both her small hands. She turned sideways and saw Owen reaching from behind to help her tie her trauma gown. His hands trapped her hands and they lingered for a second before moving onto the strings. "Dr. Hunt." "Dr. Yang." They exchanged formal greetings. Cristina tilted her head and swept her hair to one side so Owen could tie the gown more easily. "Thank you, Dr. Hunt," Cristina softly acknowledged with her hands tingling from the lingering touch.

*

Owen headed out to the ambulance bay and caught a head full of curls standing outside. Owen quickened his steps to reach faster to where Cristina stood. She was in the motion of tying her gown and without hesitation, Owen engulfed her tiny hands into his own, letting it rest momentarily before tying the strings. Cristina swept her hair to one side exposing her creamy kissable neck. Owen's eyes were fixated on her neck while his hands did the work. He felt an insatiable urge to nibble and give soft kisses to the back of her neck, if only time and place would allow.

"Hey, what do we got?" Callie trotted to the ambulance bay.

Owen stepped away as soon as Callie's voice was heard from behind. It always seemed to be Callie to interrupt these tiny moments that carried Owen throughout the day. Remembering Callie was also Cristina's roommate, Owen could not help but let himself hope that Callie might one day be interrupting at another location, say Cristina's bedroom.

* * *

"I've seen a lot of trauma guys cut in half, amputations, eviscerations. But I have never seen anything like this. I wondered if you could help." Owen brought in all the help he could get for the impaled-on-himself patient. It was a full room with interns, residents, and attendings. Not one person in the room saw a case like this and all were hesitant on the next action to take. Owen instructed, "Okay, then let's unimpale him. Yang, Grey, new kid, hold his shoulders. Brace him hard. On the count of three–one… two…three…" All hands were pulling the patient's limbs to its proper location when the patient suddenly woke up from all the pressure.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! What are you guys doing to me!!! AHHH!!!"

"Push ten of morphine now!" Owen quickly ordered and instructed everyone to stop. "Listen, you're in bad shape. We need to get you into the OR as soon as possible."

"I'm gonna be able to walk, right? I gotta be able to walk. Can your surgery make me walk??? No, I'm not having the surgery. NO!" answered the impaled patient.

Wanting to respect the patient's wishes, Owen declared to the room, "You heard the man, surgery's off." Owen did not believe doctors always knew what was best for the patient. He did not believe himself to be above and fit to make life-altering decisions for the patients. He respected and honored decisions made by the patients. No one knew better on the aftermath and repercussions of decisions other than oneself. He knew this better than anyone and felt strongly against pushing surgery on the homeless man refusing treatment.

* * *

Owen checked Timothy Miller's chart and saw vitals dropping by the hour. He walked into the room and decided to check in on Mr. Miller. "Your vitals are slipping. I'm not going to lie to you. That's not good."

"I've been through worse," Timothy defended his decision. "Oh, don't look at me like I'm some tragic hero with a secret past. I took a turn in my life and I couldn't connect. I lost…"

Owen admired Timothy's tenacity for surviving on the rough streets for 15 years. Being alone with no basic needs readily available required strong survival skills. He also understood why Timothy could not imagine life without his legs, his only form of transportation that carried him to his food, shelter and safety.

But Owen also saw the other side Timothy was unable to see. He wanted to show Timothy that after the surgery, with recovery and treatment, he would have options that weren't necessarily his past. He wanted Timothy to know he can find himself a future, just like how he found his own new life in Cristina. He wanted to prove that it might actually be scarier to continuing living in a past that no longer existed. Owen found this in a head of wild curls, and the doctors were working tirelessly to construct new legs for Timothy's future.

"Look, how long have you been out there, 10 years, 20? You're not in jail, you're not dead. That's not luck. You're smart. You gotta be smart to take care of yourself on your own. What you're doing right now, Mr. Miller, refusing surgery, it's not smart." Owen desperately wanted to save this guy's life to show that there was more than the past.

Timothy finally relented to having the surgery, trusting in Owen's faith in the future.

* * *

"He's crashing. V-fib. Start CPR. Push 1 of epi and charge the paddles to 360 right away…." Owen shot orders left and right to save Timothy's failing system. "Beep-beep-beeeeeeeep." Timothy's ECG flatlined leaving a deafening silence in the room.

"I built his bones," Callie broke the silence in the OR. "I did my part. I built his bones from scratch. And you… All of you, you were supposed to keep him alive. You just had to keep him safe and-and breathing and living until I made his bones. I made… I made his bones…" Callie broke down besides Timothy holding the future she made for him in her hands. The future that she created was now virtually of no use. All that effort was for nothing to gain in return.

Owen took a long look at Timothy. He wanted to believe that there was a path to the future, as long as one was brave enough to pick up and get back on the road. He wanted this for Timothy, but more so, wanted it for himself. His insomnia, night tremors, and nightmares were all attached to his past, a past he so desperately wanted to shed. It ached his heart to see that eventually, you will only die trying to fight your own demons.

* * *

The OR cleared with only Sloan, Callie and Cristina remaining. The scrub nurses were busy clearing the tools from the operating table amidst Callie's loud sob.

"What do you need?" asked Sloan.

"I need closure! I need my girlfriend to tell me what we had was not fruitless, that it was something special. But for now, a drink. And better make that a stiff one," answered Callie in between sobs.

"Okay, c'mon let's head over to Joe's. Yang, you in? Callie could use the company." Sloan offered Cristina to join as she also had a 'I need a stiff one' expression on her face.

* * *

Cristina, Sloan and Callie sat at the table, each nursing their drink of choice. Lost in their own thoughts, none of them realized they were at the bottom of their drinks until a loud slurp from Callie brought everyone back to Earth. "I'll get the next round," offered Callie.

Cristina looked up from her drink and her eyes subconsciously diverted to Owen sitting at the bar. From the drink tabs Cristina kept by the corner of her eyes, Owen always ordered a beer and a shot of whiskey, and he was already on his third round. Despite drinking alone at the bar, Owen did not look as if he was in need of company, but rather… broken. Cristina was a master of the concept of mind over matter, but there was a serious malfunction in her brain as Cristina felt a tug at her heart and a dull ache for the man sitting at the bar. She wanted to offer something to Owen, but did not know what.

*

Owen stopped by Joe's to grab a drink. He needed something to kill his pounding headache, sort his thoughts and numb his pain. After three rounds of beer and a shot, he realized Cristina, Callie and Sloan were sitting at the table in front of the bar. He watched Cristina take a sip from her drink as she listened onto Callie and Sloan's conversation. Here was this resident he barely knew except for a few encounters they had in the last several days. They barely had a full 10-minute conversation. Yet he was drawn to her. She attracted him like a magnetic field and he found himself physically hurting just to be in the same space as her. Any more than 10 inches within Cristina, he wanted to hold her, kiss her, touch her, soothe her and love her. He hated himself for this uncontrollable desire he had for Cristina. Moreover, he hated her for giving him this hope that he too deserved something more than flashbacks, nightmares, tremors, and freezing moments.

Owen quickly took a last swig of his beer, paid his tab and stood up to leave.

"Night, Dr. Hunt. Thanks for the tip," Joe waved to Owen as he left the bar.

Cristina's ears perked when she heard Joe saying his farewell to Dr. Hunt. "You guys are good here right? I'm leaving early. Sloan, Callie isn't on shift tomorrow so make sure you get her shit-faced, she deserves it."

"Night, Yang." "Bye, roomie!!!" Cristina smiled as she saw Callie was already halfway there.

* * *

"Hey," Cristina reached out to Owen leaving the long alley in front of Joe's.

Owen instinctively jerked and turned around defensively in one swift movement. Cristina was not expecting this type of rash response from Owen. She took a half step back and was not quite sure why she followed him to start off with, "Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the patient."

_Sorry? She was sorry for that? She should be apologizing for having this control over me._" Look, you don't need to be sorry. I don't need for you to be sorry," Owen responded defensively.

"Oo-kay…"

"I don't need you to be sorry… I don't need you to… I don't need you." With each declaration, Owen took a step towards Cristina, pushing Cristina back to the wall.

"I don't need you!" There was nowhere for Cristina to go anymore. She looked at Owen, not sure of what was happening. His reaction scared her but _he_ did not scare her. She looked at Owen, searching for something deeper in his eyes. Owen caught her curious soft wet brown eyes and his eyes trailed down to her pink pouty mouth. All the nerves in his body were alert and in a flurry of rush, Owen lunged towards Cristina, pulling himself towards her, virtually closing any gap that remained between the two. His mouth met with her sweet tasting lips and he kissed her firmly then held on for a moment.

All this happened too fast for Cristina. She held her hand up as a reflex and Owen took her hand in his hands. The touch was reminiscent of the earlier event at the ambulance bay.

Cristina did not kiss back but also did not resist the kiss. Owen went for a second kiss and grabbed her tiny waist closer to his body with his free hand. Cristina responded by grabbing the back of his neck. This was all Owen needed as he wrapped his arm under her jacket around her waist with one hand and dug his fingers in her curls with the other. He tilted her head and went in for a deeper kiss with the lips he craved since the second they broke apart from the first kiss. He searched her mouth with his lips and gently sucked on her lower lip. Cristina opened her mouth and let him explore the electric field.

Going into the kiss so fast, Cristina did not have time to take a deep breath and she was running out of air. They broke apart, breathing heavily for the much needed air. The air entered their airways and brought them back on both feet. Owen took a step back and loosened his grip he had held on her curls.

Cristina's face was filled with questions and Owen had no answers.

Cristina preferred the silence over something like, "_I'm sorry_" or "_It was a mistake_." She gently took Owen's hand that was holding her hair and placed it down his side. Without looking up to meet his eyes, Cristina stepped out of their space and walked into the night with her heart pounding out of her chest.

Owen felt the coolness in the spot Cristina once stood in front of him. He stretched one arm against the wall and took a sideways glance at Cristina's backside disappearing into the night. He bit his lip subconsciously, still savoring their passionate kiss. Owen Hunt just bought himself a roundtrip ticket to heaven and hell, and back.


	5. Talk is Overrated

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

_'Be-be-be-beep, be-be-be-beep." Cristina checked her pager and saw a '911' from Burke. She jolted from the on-call bed, grabbed her white coat and ran to the cardio wing. She easily spotted Burke down the hall and asked while approaching, "You paged?"_

_Burke had a look of panic and impatience on his face. "We have a patient that needs triple bypass surgery ASAP. We don't have a moment to spare. Something came up for me. I need to leave now but the surgery cannot wait. You are more than ready for this. You're flying solo."_

"_What?!" Cristina asked alarmingly. "What do you mean you can't stay for the surgery? You're leaving?? I can't do this alone!"_

"_You're more than ready. Besides, I can't be by your side for every single surgery. It's time Cristina," answered Burke in a calm voice._

"_Wait but… I don't know anything about the patient. I… I… don't even know him!"_

'Be-be-be-beep, be-be-be-beep.'

"No, I c-can't…" Cristina muttered in her sleep, shifting around as her pager beeped incessantly by her bedside.

'Be-be-be-beep, be-be-be-beep.'

Cristina opened her eyes and woke up in panic mode. She rubbed her eyes, taking in her surrounding and allowing her mind to calm down. She took a deep breath and reached for her pager that was beeping with urgency, thinking,_ 'Whoa, the hell was that about?'_

* * *

Owen did not make it home after Joe's last night. With his racing heart, uncertain guilt and clouded mind from the rounds of drinks, he was in no condition to drive back home. Instead, he headed straight to the hospital and found an empty on-call room. He turned off the lights and situated himself in the bed, expecting another 5-hour battle with sleep. He was so used to staring into the blackness of the night. He learned to make the best of his insomnia by letting his thoughts wander and roam the dark night. Naturally, his thoughts drifted to the earlier passionate kiss with Cristina. He let himself smile like a fool and relive the moment in the dark night…

_Two helicopters were circling their base as soldiers and medics were moving about in a frenzy. Soldiers were preparing their gear and rushing outside, and medics were directed to take their place in the tents. Owen peeked outside of the tent and saw utter chaos. Soldiers who were lucky enough reached the tank, fired away at the distance ahead, creating loud 'BOOMS' into the desert. Others who were not so lucky were on the ground, blood squirting from the wounds and moaning loudly in pain. Owen stepped out of the tent, dropped low and headed towards the injured soldier. He focused on closing the distance and bringing the soldier inside the tent for treatment. Just as Owen reached out to grab the soldier's hand, the screaming, booming bullet shots, helicopter blades chopping and loud moaning faded until only a deafening silence remained. It was as still as night around him and in seconds, a wild sandstorm started to pick up. The sand was blowing around him like a tornado. Owen covered his eyes with his arms to get a wider look at his surrounding. The tents, helicopter, tanks and all the army men were all gone._

_He was all alone in the sandstorm._

_He was left all alone in the sandstorm._

_He felt himself getting swallowed into the sandstorm when he saw a dark figure from afar. Owen cupped his eyes to get a better focus and the black figure was getting larger. Owen was able to make out a shape–lithe physique and graceful walk, he noted. The figure stopped moving. Owen reflexively started running towards the figure. He reached out and found himself calling out, 'Cristina…"_

'Be-be-be-beep. Be-be-be-beep.'

Owen jolted from the bed with eyes wide open in high alert. His body immediately took in the hospital scent, promptly alerting his body on his whereabouts. Owen had not realized he fell asleep. He slept for 5 hours straight, a new record since he has been back.

'Be-be-be-beep. Be-be-be-beep.' Owen checked his pager, seeing a '911' from the ER.

* * *

Rain was coming down in Seattle at four in the morning. Owen stood outside, taking pleasure from the loud sound of the rain, when he saw a woman with a purple umbrella walking towards the hospital. He recognized the umbrella and called out, "Dr. Yang," before taking time to think about the latter part of the conversation.

"Dr. Hunt." Cristina was caught off guard at Owen standing at the ambulance bay. It was too early for this run-in and Cristina had hoped to avoid Owen for a large part of the day. She wasn't ready for anything but a solo surgery at this point. She briefly acknowledged him and swiftly moved towards the entrance, hoping to end this awkward moment.

Owen was also taken aback by this early run-in. He intended to take some time to gather his thoughts before speaking with Cristina, but he had shockingly fallen asleep the night before. "I, uh-uhh…" _'Crap, what do I say?_' "Are you… here for me?"

"What?!" asked Cristina in disbelief. _'Seriously?'_ thought Cristina.

_'Shiet, bad choice of words.'_ Owen quickly clarified, "I-I meant my trauma."

"I'm here for a possible appy–the ambulance is on the way in," Cristina explained. Owen nodded in acknowledgement and Cristina took this opportunity to continue her way inside the hospital.

"Hey, uh…" Owen called out before Cristina could make it inside. Owen had never felt so tongue-tied in his 37 years of living. He was always assertive, sometimes even to the point of being called brazen, in situations. Many thoughts were racing in his head, but he was unable to connect the words from brain to mouth.

Cristina turned around and gave a long look at Owen. "Did you want to say something?" Cristina challenged Owen.

Still struggling with finding the right words to place in his tongue, Owen lightly asked, "How'd you beat the ambulance?"

"I live right across the street," Cristina directly answered and walked away, finally finding herself in the hospital. _'Longest minute of my life…'_

_'Smooth, real smooth.'_ Owen chided himself for stammering and asking all the irrelevant questions he could possibly ask.

* * *

"Alright, Cristina and Meredith you're with me." Dr. Bailey assigned the two eager residents to the appendectomy case.

"Score!" Meredith smiled, thanking Cristina with her eyes for filling her in on the case. "Can you believe one of us will be assigned to the first solo surgery?"

"Uh, I have it in the bag, recognize," bluntly replied Cristina. "Why do you think I even paged you? Just watch and learn from moi, Mer."

"Ha-ha," Meredith laughed. Meredith appreciated Cristina looking out for her, despite her smug comments. "I've seen an appendectomy hundreds of times, I even had my appendix taken out in the same OR. But this, this is exciting. I never knew appendectomies can be this exciting at four in the morning!!"

"Guess you finally found your mojo with McDreamy," grumpily answered Cristina. "I would have paged Izzie instead if I knew you were going to be this chirpy."

"Oh, I'm not that bad!" defended Meredith. "I'm just in a happy place right now."

* * *

Owen had some time before heading into the OR for the epileptic patient. He decided to take this chance to look for Callie.

"Hey, Sloan," Owen called out to Mark, expecting Mark would know Callie's whereabouts. "Where can I find Callie?"

"Torres? She's in the residents' general office. Probably doing unnecessary paperwork and avoiding showing off her broken nose. Sexy, broken nose, I mean," Mark replied. "Why?"

"I, uh, need her for a consultation." Owen hastily replied.

"Good luck getting any sound medical advice from her," Mark called out.

*

Just as Mark informed, Owen found Callie staring blankly at papers in the office. "Hey Torres," Owen greeted Callie.

"Hi…… Can I help you with anything?" asked Callie.

"Oh, just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was quite a hit you took this morning," Owen cautiously approached Callie.

Still uncertain for this random visit by Owen, Callie replied, "Thanks. I'll survive. How's the patient doing?"

"Oh, we're prepping him for surgery right now," Owen explained. "He was suffering from epilepsy–good thing we caught it when we did, he could have really hurt himself and his daughter."

"Yeah, good thing," Callie quietly agreed with Owen.

Owen was not used to having to do the talking with Callie in a conversation. "Right, so, knocking off early today?"

Callie raised her eyebrow, thinking this situation to be very strange indeed. "No… on-call tonight… pain is controlled by oral meds, I can still be of use." Callie answered, wanting to know where Owen was going with this.

"Oh, I see," Owen found a tiny chance. "I guess your place must be out of the way from the hospital," Owen insinuated, hoping to get closer to his answer.

"No, I live right across the street." Callie knew Owen was not interested in where she lived or what she was doing to do after work. She was an expert at picking up sexual tensions from men and Owen was definitely not approaching her that way. In fact, she was sure he was into Cristina. A blind fool would know that given the way he intensely looked at her every chance he got. _'Ohhhh… I get it.'_ Callie finally got to the bottom of this. _'He's asking about Cristina, not me.'_

Owen was getting frustrated at Callie's lack of answers. Usually he only had to give Callie a light toss and she ran off on a rampage providing everything he needed to know, and more. This time, she was being tightlipped with her words. He tried again, "Oh, across the street? Where the supermarket is?" Owen was hoping Callie would direct him to the answer.

Callie was thoroughly enjoying Owen trying to get some information on Cristina. "Yea, just about there," she vaguely replied.

'Be-be-be-beep." Owen's pager rang off, letting him know surgery was about to start. Owen was running out of time. _'Oh, screw it.'_ Owen brashly asked, "What's your address?"

* * *

Meredith and Cristina were walking to the conference room, answering Chief Weber's page. "Wow, I can't believe what just happened in there," spoke the worried Meredith. "What were the interns thinking operating on each other? What the hell was Sadie thinking?"

Cristina cooled off her forehead with the back of her hands. "They were obviously not thinking. I know we pulled off some stunts but that was just pure stupidity."

"Yeah," Meredith agreed. "No wonder they were gone the whole day. They planned this under everyone's nose."

Cristina silently chided herself for not being attentive to the interns' weird behavior as of late. She was so focused on learning and training under the attendings, she failed to guide the interns that were just babies.

*

Chief Weber, surprisingly, had words of encouragement for Cristina and Meredith. "I've seen a lot of maturity in the two of you through this whole mess. You handled the crisis, you handled the surgery and you saved the girl's life. And you called for help right away." Weber let on, "Sometimes protecting your colleagues is solidarity. And sometimes its just hubris. I'm glad to see you know the difference."

It was only expected Chief Weber would find a way to blame the lack of supervision on their part, but somehow, they were being credited for handling the situation. Meredith and Cristina exchanged looks and they let out a sigh of relief when Lexie barged into the room, "Chief–. I-I can't let you two get in trouble for this. Dr. Yang told me yesterday to shut it down. But I didn't listen."

The Chief dropped his mouth and loudly asked Cristina, "You knew about this yesterday??!! Were you in on this too, Meredith??"

"NO," Meredith immediately responded.

* * *

"You knew about this and didn't say anything???" Meredith angrily asked Cristina.

"No! I knew they were doing suture on themselves," defended Cristina. "And I didn't think I needed to say anything! Because I had shut it down, I had handled it."

"Apparently you didn't!" Meredith shot back. "Because it almost cost Lexie her job, not to mention that Sadie almost died in there."

"Okay, what? Don't you _dare _blame this on me!" Cristina raised her voice. "Sadie did that to herself. And let's not pretend that you have some sort of relationship with Lexie. Let's not pretend that you care about her." Cristina could not believe Meredith was blaming her for Lexie and Sadie's actions. She could not believe Meredith was defending these two interns she barely gave two hoots about.

"I care about my job and I care about doing the right thing," defiantly answered Meredith

She could not believe Meredith threw her to the curb, in order to fend for herself. "I cannot believe you. This isn't about them. It's about you and me and the fact that you didn't have my back in the room. You could have said something, Mer! You let me take all the blame, but the fact is that we all had interns in that room. We ALL failed to supervise them." Cristina angrily stormed out of the room.

* * *

Cristina hated to admit this, but she was hurt. Meredith was the one person she never hesitated to page for surgeries, despite being the one resident that stood a chance against her. She was the one person whose cell phone number she had memorized in case her phone ran out of batteries. She was the one person she shared shots of tequila 'till they hit faced down on Meredith's bathroom floor.

She was her person. And her person threw her under the bus.

Knowing how much this solo surgery meant for Cristina, Meredith stood and watched Cristina's shot for the solo surgery disappear right before their very own eyes. Cristina dragged her weary and hurt self out of the hospital, craving the comfort of her home.

* * *

Owen took a seat at Cristina's apartment step and gathered his hands together. He knew an explanation was to be in order but was at a loss as to how to go about redeeming himself for his actions. He thought he would have the answers by the end of the day, but was still grappling with the messy page in his head. There were a lot of scribbles, but none coherent.

He waited for the words to come. He waited for the time. He waited for Cristina. He waited.

*

As Cristina reached closer to her apartment, she saw a figure sitting at her steps, eventually realizing Owen was there, waiting for her. She paused in front of Owen, thinking, _'Boy, here we go again…'_

Owen looked up and saw Cristina standing in front of him. "I don't know why I came here," Owen truthfully answered, darting quick glances at Cristina.

A brief silence passed between them. Cristina broke the silent by offering, "Do you want to come in?"

Owen responded, "No, no. I-I don't think that'd be appropriate." He did not want Cristina to think he was there for other reasons other than wanting to be… just there. He took two quick glances up at Cristina, hoping she didn't take it the wrong way.

Cristina knew Owen was struggling with himself as his words were continuously stammering out of his mouth. She tried a different path, "Do you want to go someplace else?"

Owen finally knew what he wanted. He wanted to just be with Cristina. He wanted to just have some time together to breathe with each other in the same space outside of work, just as two normal man and woman trying to get to know each other a little bit more. He earnestly answered, "No…"

Enough of asking what Owen wanted to do, Cristina thought best to just take a seat next to him. She took a seat on the same step as Owen, stared straight ahead and felt her body relax. Cristina was surprised at the unlikely spot she found comfort she so desperately seeked to wrap up her weary day.

Owen turned his face towards Cristina, letting himself look at her directly for the first time today. The sunset kissed her skin, causing a glow to her soft facial features and reflected a shine to her dark curls. Owen was taken away by her beauty. For the first time, he spoke honestly, loudly, and clearly, "I think you're beautiful."

She turned to meet Owen's gaze that was fixated on her face. Their eyes met and things quickly switched around, as this time it was Owen looking defiantly at Cristina, with Cristina shyly acknowledging his gaze. She felt Owen's sincerity in his eyes. All her doubts cast and questions raised were answered by those four magical words.

Owen and Cristina finally found themselves existing in the same place and time.


	6. Infinite Time and Space

Sighs. I love this couple too much. To the Grey's writers- please... don't screw this up!! =( Hope you enjoy the read!

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

Cristina logged into her email account and saw an email from the Chief. _"Second Year Resident Solo Surgery Announced Tomorrow Morning" _read the subject line. The residents were being called to gather at 6AM sharp to await the announcement of who will be the first to fly solo. Already stripped from her chance, Cristina slammed her laptop closed, leaned back against her sofa and took a long sip of her white wine. She put her feet up and thought back on her night.

_It was now getting chilly as the sun was setting and night was approaching. Cristina felt the temperature drop and hugged herself for some body heat. Owen immediately noticed and asked, "Are you cold?" and motioned to take off his jacket._

_"No, no. It's fine–keep it. I should go in and order dinner. Callie usually hounds me for food as soon as she sets her foot in the door." Cristina stretched her legs out, getting ready to rise._

_Owen showed no intention of getting up anytime soon. "Callie's not coming home tonight," informed Owen._

_Cristina took a sideways glance at Owen. "And you know this because…?"_

_"We talk," answered Owen._

_Cristina was not convinced. Callie talked; Owen did not. Callie spoke in never-ending, run on sentences; Owen had a hard time formulating four worded sentences. It was strange why Owen knew this bit of information. He said he didn't want to come up but he showed up knowing Callie was not going to be home tonight. 'Was I getting some or not, dammit?' wondered Cristina._

_Owen wanted to drag this moment with Cristina just a tad bit longer. Although they sat mostly in silence for the past 30 minutes just acknowledging their space together, he was thoroughly enjoying himself by her side. He wanted extra five minutes to ask all the floating questions in his head. 'When was the last time you were in a relationship?' 'What do you look for in a guy?' 'Do I stand a chance?' 'Do you like lasagna?' 'Will you go out with me?' He was determined to get one question in by the end of the night. "Okay, I'll walk you up. I insist."_

_Owen followed Cristina inside the apartment, carefully noting his surroundings. She guided him to the elevator and Owen pushed the 'UP' button. Both remained silent on the ride up. The door opened and Owen stepped aside to let Cristina guide the way._

_"I'm right here," Cristina stopped in front of apartment 502. She took out her keys and turned around to say her goodbye to Owen. Unless… he wanted to come in for a bit. Cristina searched Owen's face for signs._

_'Okay, this is it.' Owen did not want to mess up on his chance to end the night in an appropriate manner. He spent the elevator ride thinking what would be the last thing he would say to Cristina tonight. Owen opened his mouth and out came the words, "Thanks for the kiss last night–i-it was great." Cristina looked at Owen with stunned eyes._

_Thinking was never Owen's strong suit._

* * *

All the attendings were called in an hour early to vote for the solo surgery for the second year residents. Owen poured himself a hot cup of black coffee into a mug and took a seat by Derek.

"An hour early for this?" grumbled Mark, taking a seat by Owen. "Waste of time. We all know who's going to win it."

"Ah, it's a nice change from starting your day off with nervous interns and ruthless residents fighting for their bid in the OR room," offered Derek. "Besides, I welcome any opportunity for this delicious danish. Where do they get it?" Derek wondered out loud, while offering Owen a danish to try for himself.

"No thanks." Owen was not a sweets person. He enjoyed his black coffee in the morning. The thought of chewing on five spoonfuls of chewy sugar made him sick. "So, who are you referring to?" Owen asked Mark, wanting to confirm his guess.

"I know you're new here and all, but if you haven't noticed that Yang is the best resident here, you are definitely going to have a hard time fitting in," answered Mark.

"Thanks for coming everyone." Chief Webber walked into the room. "I know we're all busy and tired, but thought this morning would be best to gather all you renowned attendings together. There has been a slight change to the pool of residents. I'm sorry to inform everyone that Cristina Yang has been pulled out of the running for this honor."

Surprised and bemused eyes were exchanged around the room. Owen immediately feeling the curiosity and concern for this sudden announcement and asked aloud, "Why? What's the reason?"

Chief Webber was shocked to hear this question from the newest attending at Seattle Grace. He thought those who knew Cristina longer would be the one to ask, not the trauma surgeon who was so adamant on voicing his disapproval for the lack of professional relationships Seattle Grace was known for. "Dr. Yang has been pulled out due to disciplinary actions on behalf of her interns."

"Oh. Are we talking about the rogue interns who cut themselves open yesterday?" asked Mark. "They were Yang's?"

"Not necessarily," replied Chief Webber.

"Then why is Cristina the only one being pulled from the contest?" asked Owen.

Chief Webber definitely took note in Owen's interest in this situation. "Dr. Yang had known beforehand the interns were suturing on themselves and failed to bring it up to the superiors. She was critical in failing to manage the interns. So we need to vote on a second year resident, not including Dr. Yang."

A dull silence filled the room. The attendings were drawing a blank. "Honestly, I knew it was going to be Dr. Yang from the beginning," spoke up Dr. Nelson. "I haven't given it any other residents a consideration."

A general nod went around the room. "Yeah, I'm with Dr. Nelson. My vote was for Yang," Derek chimed in. "To be honest, no one really stood a chance against Yang."

Chief Webber took a look around and saw there was a general consensus in the room. "Does everyone feel this way about this situation?" asked the Chief. Replies of 'yes' and nods filled the room. "Okay then, here is what I propose we do…"

* * *

Cristina stood at the back of the residents' lounge, sipping her morning coffee. All the residents were antsy, waiting to find out who was going to be chosen to fly solo. Word spread like wildfire about Cristina being pulled from the running and all the residents were now anxious, actually having a shot with Cristina out of the running.

Cristina was not finding this situation amusing. She worked her ass off for all her accolades and this one had been stripped from her. She felt wronged, more so wronged by Meredith. She could have used someone standing up for her but instead, the one person she relied on, so easily took the bait for a shot to be the first to fly solo.

"This is stupid. You guys are going to trust these imbeciles to tell you who's getting the first solo surgery?" Cristina couldn't help but speak her bitter words.

"Is this hard for you? Being banned from the solo surgery, must be really hard for you," taunted Izzie.

_'Bitch,'_ thought Cristina. She was bewildered that even Izzie now had a shot. She refused to stoop low and respond to Izzie's comment.

Meredith spoke up indirectly to Cristina, "He's been known to change his mind."

_'Oh, trying to play the role of a friend now that everyone is in the room. Where was this friend when it was just us two and the Chief?'_ Angry thoughts ran through Cristina. "Please don't do that," replied Cristina while thinking, _'Shut up.'_

Lexie busted into the room and announced, "The Chief sent me. They made their choice. It's you." Lexie's fingers were pointing directly to the back of the room, into Cristina's incredulous eyes.

*

"Choosing who gets the first solo surgery isn't about who has the best surgical skills, or who's logged the most hours in the OR. It's about the highest form of trust. The trust to put a patient's life in one of our resident's hands. And for the first time that I can recall, every single attending picked the same person, Dr. Yang. However, Dr. Yang is out of the running. She is going to pick the winner instead." Chief Webber announced to the group of residents before him.

* * *

Cristina had some thinking to do by 4PM, on top of oohing-and-aahing Dr. Dixon in hopes of joining Seattle Grace as the next head of Cardio. She was way in over her head but appreciated the Chief tasking Cristina with the same responsibility he had tasked Dr. Bailey with a month ago. Cristina took solace in the fact that there still had to be some respect for her there.

*

Owen's morning had been quiet. There were no emergencies, and interns and residents were taking care of the pit. He decided to familiarize himself with the hospital, with the bigger picture of taking this time to look for Cristina and make sure she was holding up with the Chief's news. He entered the cardio wing and heard Cristina's voice down the hall…

"Dr. Virginia Dixon. It said she arrived here over half an hour ago! Where is she?!" boomed Cristina's voice at the desk.

Owen smirked, happy to find a feisty and not a sullen Cristina. "Nervous?" Owen asked from behind.

"What?" Cristina immediately matched the voice with Owen. "What are you doing here?" asked Cristina, genuinely confused at Owen's appearance in the cardio wing. "This is the cardio wing. Only cardio gods allowed."

"I know, I was just looking, getting to know the other parts of the hospital." Owen replied into the air, avoiding meeting her eyes for giving himself away. In entirety, Owen was looking for Cristina.

"What else is there? The OR, the ER and the place for the food?" Other areas of the hospital were irrelevant to Cristina.

"Somebody's got a lot to learn." Owen walked away, not wanting to distract Cristina from her day with Dr. Dixon. He also just wanted to confirm that she was okay and from the looks of it, she seemed to be holding up just fine.

* * *

"I know you still see me as 007 but that was day one. I've grown a lot since then and learned a lot. You know, anyone can have brains or anyone can have talent, but the key is to grow. So sure, I had a rough start and I had to redo some of my intern year, but you know, came out the other side, smarter, better. The important point is I never gave up, because I'm a fighter." George calmly made his case to Cristina.

"Thank you." Cristina appreciated George's carefully drawn out case. She acknowledged George's growth in the program but still knew that he was behind from the other residents. She prepared herself for the other cases to be made.

*

Cristina took the files for the stronger contenders and found a spot on a well lit staircase. She was looking through the documents when she was interrupted by Meredith.

"So.. you know I deserve this. You know I'm the most qualified. But I don't want it to be a big awkward thing. I don't. So just you know, you do what you have to do." Meredith gave Cristina a penny for her thoughts.

"Okay." Cristina was conflicted. She knew Meredith was a great surgeon but this was a pathetic case she was making for herself. Meredith was selfishly expecting Cristina to choose her without having to make her own case. On top of what they just went through yesterday, Cristina expected more from Meredith and was disappointed yet again.

* * *

Owen took a look around the lunch room and saw the residents' sitting at their usual table. Izzie, George, Meredith and Alex were all enjoying their lunch. Everyone was there except for Cristina. Owen knew Cristina had a busy day ahead of her and most likely was taking her lunch in private, trying to make her decision by 4PM. Despite knowing this fact, Owen still felt unsettled and quickly finished his sandwich, eager to find Cristina.

*

Owen found himself in the cardio wing twice already. He felt strange to visit the wing when he clearly had no reason to be there other than Cristina. He looked around and as expected, found Cristina sitting with papers sprawled out on the table. He walked closer, aware that she was completely oblivious to his presence. He walked slowly but deliberately, taking in her soft curls framing her focused expression. Cristina was the whole package, smart and beautiful. The woman drove him wild.

"You know who you're gonna pick?" interrupted Owen.

Cristina looked up, surprised to hear Owen's voice yet again from nowhere. She doubled checked her whereabouts, making sure she was in the cardio wing. _'What is he doing here?'_ wondered Cristina.

"Well, I'm ranking them according to a system. You know, surgical skills, hours in the OR, published papers, academic accomplishments." Cristina thought out loud.

"You know them. You know their capabilities. Go with your gut," advised Owen, while taking a seat on the table in front of Cristina.

"Ha, my gut?" asked Cristina. Guts did not have logic and reasoning. Guts were based off feelings and emotions, which Cristina clearly was not a fan of. "I'm not putting a patient's life in the hands of a novice surgeon based on my gut." Cristina looked down at her papers.

Owen looked at Cristina, who was clearly distracted from listening to Owen. He meant those words in many ways than one but was going over Cristina's head. "It worked for me," said Owen, while stealing a glance at Cristina.

"Your gut?" scoffed Cristina, without taking her eyes off her papers.

Owen nodded and decided being direct was the best form of communication with Cristina if he ever wanted her to understand where he was coming from. "It's what told me to choose you." Owen stole a final quick glance and rose from the table, leaving without turning behind.

Cristina finally tore her eyes from the papers at Owen's final statement. By the time she looked up, Owen was already walking away. She looked at his firm, large shoulders and took in the manly physique of his body. The man pleased Cristina in ways she hadn't felt in so long. Owen woke up the animal in the pit of her stomach. _'Hm, was that my gut talking?'_ Cristina wondered at the feeling of her stomach dropping to the bottom of the pit.

* * *

"Dude… you were robbed. You got screwed by politics. The Chief needed a scapegoat. It's so unfair. I'm sorry. I-I can't do this. I can kiss ass when I have to but not yours. Below the knee amputation- make a transverse incision at the mid-shaft of the tibia. Elevate the periosteum and cut the tibia and fibula with a bone saw. Ligate the vascular bundles and release the tourniquet. I've done four of 'em- one on a cadaver, three on Stan." Alex let out a sigh after rolling out the medical procedure in one breath and walked out.

_'Best case yet…'_ thought Cristina.

*

"Have you ever had mind-blowing sex… the kind of sex that makes you want to die, just fall on the floor and give up and die? Cause this sex I'm having, it's that good. It's the best sex I've ever had. In fact, it's the best sex anybody's ever had. I don't know why anybody who's had this kind of sex would do anything but have sex. You're gonna give the solo surgery to Mer, which is typical and boring and slightly corrupt, but at least I'm having really, really, really good sex."

Cristina was fully amused at Izzie's making of her case. She was more entertained that they actually had something in common. Yes, she did have mind-blowing sex that made her want to fall over and die. And she was thinking of having this mind-blowing sex with the new trauma surgeon at Seattle Grace. The thoughts ran a marathon in her mind at nights. She just would never admit this to Izzie but for the first time ever, Izzie just made herself a stronger candidate than Meredith.

* * *

Meredith sought Cristina in the gallery before Alex's solo surgery. "We're fighting and I don't want to be," started Meredith. "Let's just put this past us. What happened with the chief and the interns, it doesn't matter. I know that's why you didn't choose me and I know that's why you made it personal. So let's just move on."

_'Was Meredith serious? Was this her form of apology or a way for her console herself with the fact that I choose Alex?'_ Cristina was incredulous; the choice had little to do with Cristina's bitter feelings towards Meredith. "You made it personal. This right here is you making it personal. You told me to do what I had to do so I chose Alex. He was the most prepared. That's why I didn't choose you- not because we're fighting but because unlike you, I can separate my personal life from my job. You made it personal."

Cristina was seething inside. She could not believe how selfish Meredith was being–making it seem as if Cristina was petty and holding a grudge against Meredith when she was the one who wronged her. She felt heat rising and emotions swirling to the surface. "None of you said anything. Those were all our interns. But I won this. They picked me. If I don't deserve this solo surgery, then none of us do." Cristina cracked. Her rare outburst of emotions got the best over her and Cristina let out to the group of residents who did nothing to defend her. But her anger was directly mostly to Meredith.

Cristina quickly left the gallery and turned a corner, avoiding the busy hallways. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were alerting tears to her eyes. She leaned slightly against the wall.

"Not here," a husky low voice trailed behind Cristina. "Here."

Cristina looked up and through her blurry eyes saw Owen once again coming from nowhere. Third time today Owen showed up without warning. Cristina looked at Owen, finally, maybe, realizing these run-ins were intentional. Owen extended out a hand when he saw Cristina not making any movements. "Come on," he called her over.

*

"Where are we going?" asked Cristina, finding herself in a dark, shady basement.

"Don't worry. You'll like it." Owen wanted Cristina to trust him. Owen placed his hand on the small of her back and guided Cristina to the vent and let her in. "Come on."

Cristina was staggered where she was. It was… a loud room with steam coming from big metallic tubes. She looked at Owen with _'Where the hell are we?'_ eyes.

Owen knew exactly what Cristina needed as soon as he saw her outburst in the gallery. She was not fine. He did not know the details but he knew that it was a hard day for her. He saw the torture in her eyes and saw that she needed an escape. He wanted to be that escape for Cristina. Not just today but from now on. Owen knew the vent would be their escape.

Owen led Cristina to the middle of the room. "Wait, wait…" Before Cristina had time to ask another question, a strong gust of air gushed from beneath Cristina, blasting air all around her. Cristina opened her eyes in shock and held onto Owen's arms for support. The air almost knocked her off her feet.

"It's okay," comforted Owen. "It's the vent. It clears your head. It feels better right?"

"Yes, yes!" The air had knocked the emotions out and replaced with excitement of the unknown.

Owen knew the effects of the vent better than anyone. "It's out of time, out of space. Anything can happen in the vent. Anything." Owen cherished this moment he was able to share the vent with Cristina.

"Like what?" questioned Cristina while taking in his eyes.

"Just wait," replied Owen, endearingly looking into Cristina's eyes.

A second gush blasted from beneath. Cristina giggled, feeling the warm air underneath her clothes. Her senses were alert. Cristina slightly squeezed her hand, still holding onto Owen's biceps. Owen gently pressed the small of her back towards his body. Cristina looked at Owen, and leaned in, ready for her breath to be taken away. Owen smiled and gently took in her lips, savoring her soft pillowy lips. Owen deepened the kiss by tilting her head with his hand and opened his mouth wider to take in her mouth. Owen ran his hand along her jaw, and took in her face with one hand. He let his hand trail down to her neck and entered her mouth with his tongue.

There was no resistance on her end. Cristina hungrily kissed Owen back, meeting Owen's tongue with hers. Their hands, mouths, tongues and bodies were intertwined with each other, tasting and touching each other more intimately than ever before.

Time stood still. Place remained unknown. It was a simple case of a boy and a girl, meeting each other in an infinite time and space, and existing only for each other.


	7. Not Today Maybe Tomorrow

Another chapter. I'm starting to see a trend on who replies to my stories. Hehe, I should start doing roll-calls soon. =) Thank you so much for R+R; fuels me to write! This chapter has a good mix of mine and Grey's material. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes

* * *

Owen pulled Cristina closer as he dipped his head to angle in on her neck. Cristina grabbed Owen's neck and a soft moan escaped from her heated mouth. Their kissing was getting more intimate by the second and Owen's body was in full alert. He felt a tightening sensation in his lower body and muffled a low grunt. He was fighting his bodily reflexes with all his might. Cristina felt a bulge against the pit of her stomach. Surprised, she slightly pulled back. Immediately, she felt a buzzing against the waist of her pants. She jolted and fully pulled back from Owen. Owen already had her pager in his hands and held it out of her to see.

'_Ahem,'_ Cristina cleared her throat. "D-Dr. Dixon is paging me. I should go."

"Uhm, right, right." Owen tugged on his drawstrings and tried adjusting his pants.

Cristina smoothed her hair and straightened out her scrub top. She turned towards the door, pulled on the handle and realized Owen was still standing by the vent. "Coming?" asked Cristina.

"Uh. N-not now. I-I need about ten," Owen sheepishly answered.

Cristina noted Owen's slightly turned body and immediately remembered the bulge she felt against her stomach. "Okay, see ya," said Cristina, unable to hide the smirk on her face while turning away.

* * *

"Finally, you're home!" greeted Callie, sprawled on the living room couch. "I need someone to knock some sense into me, pronto."

"I'm starving, what's for dinner?" Cristina asked without acknowledging Callie's words.

"Leftovers?" offered Callie.

Cristina threw her bag and coat on the table and rummaged through the fridge, taking out white containers of leftovers from the night before. Callie hurriedly grabbed her wine glass and took a seat by the counter.

"So, the new intern, Sadie." Callie started. "She's been giving me these sex eyes and I don't know what to do! Mark and I made a pact to stay away from the young ones. But it's sooo hard and it's sooo tempting."

Cristina took a seat at the counter and chomped on a forkful of fried rice. "Mmhmm," responded Cristina.

"This girl thing is so confusing. Guys are so much easier because one look is all it takes for you to know whether or not he wants you or not. But girls. They compliment, they tease, they smile. What the hell does that mean??" vented the frustrated Callie, while taking a large gulp of her wine.

"Maybe she doesn't want you," stated Cristina.

"No, impossible," countered Callie. "Something's there. I know it. C'mon, if someone has feelings for you, you know. Like Owen. You knew from the beginning. How's it going, by the way?" Words flew effortlessly out of Callie's mouth.

Cristina stuffed her face with food and shrugged. "It's going," she managed to muster out.

"Details!" gushed Callie. "Oooooh, I love the beginning stages of relationships. The butterflies, the getting to know each other conversations, the jitterbugs. It's a lovely thing, really."

Cristina swallowed the food, took a huge gulp of beer and asked, "What did Owen say to you?"

"Yes, confirmed!" Callie pumped both her hands in the air. "Nothing, he just asked where I lived and by proxy, he just asked me where you lived. That's all, but you just confirmed it for me."

'_Dammit.'_ Cristina scowled, annoyed she could have avoided this conversation altogether.

"C'mon, throw me a bone here," pleaded Callie. "I'm going through a breakup and imagining the crazy-take-my-own-appendix-out intern is giving me bedroom eyes!"

"Sleep with Sloan, it'll make you feel better," advised Cristina while rising from her seat. "Besides, it's not much. We're just… getting to know each other."

Cristina walked towards her bedroom with Callie's voice trailing after her, "To be continued, Cristina…!" Cristina closed her door and plopped down on her bed. She was overwhelmed with a wide range of emotions she had not felt since Burke. The kiss with Owen made her elated and had her heartbeat up in a matter of seconds. She could still feel his tongue inside her mouth, his scruff tickling her neck and the bulge that definitely did not disappoint.

However, these high emotions promptly overrode the hurt and anger she felt when she thought about Meredith. Cristina heavily weighed trust and loyalty in all relationships. Once that line was crossed and broken, it was hard for Cristina to look otherwise. Especially if someone was being as unapologetic as Meredith was. Cristina couldn't help but also think that now that Meredith and Derek were walking on cloud nine, she needed less of Cristina's friendship. Petty, Cristina recognized, but couldn't help but feel like she was being downgraded below Derek.

Cristina missed having someone on her side and almost immediately, as that thought crossed her mind, Owen briefly flashed across her vision. She realized she might have someone batting for her after all.

* * *

"What do we have?" asked Owen, entering the ER at three in the morning.

"50-year-old woman, vitals are stable, ran into a streetlight trying to swerve a cat. Minor car accident. One open wound on forehead, bruising at the ribs. Doesn't look surgical from what I can tell," answered the paramedic.

"You never know. Take her to trauma 1," instructed Owen. "And you." Owen double-checked the intern's name. "Dr. Cox, get the suture kit ready."

"Y-yes. Dr. Hunt," stammered the young intern.

Owen walked into trauma one and took a seat by the patient, checking the chart. "Ms. Klein, any pains other than wound and ribs?"

"No, they drugged me up real nice here. I should look into saving cats as a second career," joked Ms. Klein.

Owen smiled. "I wouldn't advise that. You're going to need stitches. Dr. Cox, hand me the suture kit."

Alison grabbed the kit and nervously handed it over to Dr. Hunt. "I-I can do it myself. I'm on call tonight. Y-you should get some rest Dr. Hunt," said Alison with a pink flush on her cheeks.

"No, that's okay. Besides with your hands shaking like that, I don't think Ms. Klein would appreciate looking like Ms. Frankenstein," said Owen with a polite smile.

Alison turned bright red and clamped up, not knowing what to say.

"Get some rest. I'll page you if I need you." Owen sent Alison away.

Ms. Klein looked at Owen and burst into laughter. "Poor thing…" said Ms. Klein, while shaking her head.

"Excuse me?" asked Owen, completely oblivious to what was going on.

"The young intern," explained Ms. Klein, "can't even speak in complete sentences in front of you. Poor thing has the biggest crush and you don't even realize! Men…" Ms. Klein shook her head.

"Please stay still ma'am," requested Owen.

"I hope you are not as dense with your lady." Ms. Klein searched Owen's face for signs. "You look like a fine catch–you do have a special lady, right?"

Owen paused. This was venturing into unprofessional territory as Ms. Klein was his patient and he was her doctor. But Owen felt a tug at his heart he could not deny. "Yes, she's very special," answered Owen.

"Never hold back on how you feel, Dr. Hunt," advised Ms. Klein. "It will eventually be too late by the time you realize so don't hold back and let her know every chance you get."

"Okay," nodded Owen, finishing up the last stitch. "I'll take you up to X-Ray to make sure on the bruising."

* * *

Owen was off by noon having been on-call the previous night. Owen wrapped up his last patient and looked at the time. He had no idea where Cristina was assigned for the day, but wanted to see her before he left. He realized he knew very little about Cristina. He did not even know how she liked her coffee. He needed to prepare for an excuse once he ran into her but couldn't think of anything to say. He thought about Ms. Klein's advice. _'Screw it,'_ thought Owen and ventured the halls with Cristina being the only thing in his mind.

Owen checked cardio wing–no Cristina. He checked the lunch room–no Cristina. He passed by the resident's lounge–still no signs of Cristina. Not wanting to page her just to say hello, Owen decided to end his search. He quickly changed in the attendings' room and walked out of the main entrance. From the corner of his eyes he saw a headful of curls he could not miss. "Cristina?" Owen called out.

Cristina looked up from her phone and saw Owen. "Hey," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

Owen smiled and walked towards Cristina. "Coffee break?"

"Yea, dragging. Didn't get much sleep last night," answered Cristina. She noted his casual attire. "Off?"

"Yeah, done for the day. Was on-call last night," explained Owen.

"Ha, just last night?" Cristina questioned with a raised brow. "Rumor is you've leased the best on-call room in the hospital for a year," she teased.

Owen smiled at her jab. He wanted to offer her more. "I'm a bit of an insomniac. Don't sleep too well at nights." Owen finally gave a hint of his troubles.

Cristina nodded.

"Are you in a rush?" Owen cautiously asked.

Cristina checked the time on her phone and replied, "Not really."

"Wanna sit on the bench for a bit?" asked Owen, while shooting two quick glances at Cristina, not wanting to be rejected.

Without answering, Cristina walked over to the bench, sat down and crossed her legs. Owen followed behind Cristina and sat down, with his elbows resting on his knees.

"How do you like your coffee?" Owen asked out of the blue.

"What?" The question caught Cristina off guard.

"You know… Fat-free? Splenda?" Owen guessed.

Owen clearly did not know Cristina yet. "You've just offended me. I like lattes–fat ones. The creamier, the better."

Owen grinned. Seeing how slim Cristina was, he guessed she was conscious about her food choices. Boy, was he wrong. He was finding that the more he find out about Cristina, the more he liked. Owen was finding it difficult to carry a conversation as Cristina provided very short and to the point answers. "How long has it been since you moved in with Callie?"

"Hm," Cristina did a quick count of the months. "About half a year."

"Oh, where did you live before?" asked Owen, curious for the reason for her move.

"About 10 minutes away," answered Cristina, thoughts drifting to her old apartment with Burke.

"Lived alone?" asked Owen.

"Yeah…" answered Cristina.

"It wasn't even that far. Why did you moved?" Owen was curious about anything that had to do with Cristina.

Cristina paused her answers and thought before answering, "My ex moved out and I couldn't stand living there."

Cristina's answers startled Owen and knocked the wind out of his chest. He leaned back and turned to take a look at Cristina. "I-I see," Owen answered rubbing his hands together. "So…" Owen couldn't help but ask, "How long ago has it been since you were in a relationship?"

"Goodness, Owen. What is this–21 questions?" asked Cristina, getting flustered for Owen digging into her past. "I came out to get coffee and got caught up in an interrogation instead," said Cristina.

Owen flushed at Cristina's sharp words. He just found out something very personal about Cristina and did not want to miss on the chance to get to find out a little bit more. And curiously was killing Owen. Owen started, "I just…"

'_Be-be-be-beeep.' _Cristina's pager went off. "Gotta go." Cristina got up from the bench and motioned to take a step. She stopped and turned her head to look at Owen still sitting on the bench. "It's been a little over a year." Cristina answered and made her way back into the hospital.

Owen nodded and followed Cristina with his eyes until she disappeared from his view. It was exciting that he was getting to know her a little bit more than yesterday, but could not help but be nagged by the green monster swirling inside.

* * *

(The Next Day...)

Cristina took in the gust of warm air lifting her heavy heart. She was venturing into new territory; her sole comfort was nowhere to be found and another figure was entering her heart. She so desperately tried to keep her stability by closing herself off. But when Meredith left Cristina, it created a crack for another to enter. The person entered and did not show any signs of leaving.

Cristina and Meredith marched side by side to the ER. They were both called by the Chief for an incoming trauma. Each step cut the tension between them and extended the one minute walk to feel like a long stretch of hot dry land. They finally reached the ER, to find Derek and Owen awaiting for their arrival.

"What do you got?" asked Meredith to Derek, in a chirpy voice.

'_How annoying,'_ Cristina thought. "So what do we have?" Cristina turned to ask Owen, but was rudely met by his broad back. _'The hell?'_ Cristina was offended and shot him a look that could burn a hole in the back of his head.

Owen naturally thought Meredith would have shared the case with Cristina. He was reading intently, not aware of what was going on in those mere seconds.

"You've read up on our VIP?" entered Chief Webber. "Multiple stab wounds, badly beaten. He'll have guards with him at all times. Watch your syringes, sharps, and pins. I don't want any accidents."

Owen noticed Cristina shooting confused looks at the Chief's words. He turned around to pass along the paper to Cristina, realizing she did not get a chance to read the description.

Cristina sharply grabbed the paper from Owen, still feeling snubbed by his actions. "Sir, what's PDR?" Cristina asked.

"Prisoner. On Death Row," gravely answered the Chief.

* * *

"We'll get a better picture once we get the CTs back," Meredith smugly added.

"I ordered an MRI. The CT may not give us a clear view of the cord," added Cristina, wanting to one-up Meredith with prisoner Dunn's case.

Owen turned back, feeling the tension between the two residents. "We'll be happy to look at all the images," he offered, placating them both.

"And we'll do everything by the book. I don't want some lawyer keeping him alive on the basis that we did not give him a standard of care." Derek advised.

"Well, good people do bad things. People screw up. He's still a person. We don't know what crime he committed," Meredith added, trying to view the case with an objective view.

"Oh, maybe he killed a cop. Let's feel all warm for the cop killer," taunted Cristina, thinking Meredith to be ridiculous for feeling for a murderer when she couldn't stop to feel for a friend.

"We don't know what he did. We can't judge." Meredith refused to back down from Cristina.

"No, but a jury can–death row," logically spoke Cristina.

"I can't believe we're wasting time debating this. Do a repeat crit and let me know if he needs blood." Derek released the two fighting residents.

Owen was an outsider to this conversation. He took a step back and let the tension between Cristina and Meredith sink in. He knew Cristina had a squabble with Meredith the time he saw Cristina visibly upset at her colleagues in the gallery. But she never mentioned anything after. He had thought it naturally blew over.

"I thought they were friends." Owen said to Derek, hoping Derek would provide more insight.

"They were. And now you and I are in for a very, very long day," answered Derek.

Owen knew those two came as a package and thought, without question, they would make up. Until now. Owen realized he failed to recognize the depth of their fight.

* * *

With this new knowledge in mind, Owen went over to the desk where they kept the Mr. Dunn's file, knowing Cristina would be around. He found Cristina sitting at the desk, mindlessly sharpening her pencil. Owen took the large latte in his hands and placed it on the counter.

Cristina looked up at the appearance of coffee that caught her eyes. "What's that for?" she asked.

"Seems like you're short a friend today, so I thought I'd fill in." Owen wanted to cheer Cristina up.

"Whatever. Colleagues aren't friends. They're competitors." Cristina wryly answered, still slightly annoyed by Owen's cold shoulder this morning.

"So does that mean you're not gonna drink this coffee?" asked Owen. "Shame to take it back. It's a fat coffee at that too."

A smile tugged on Cristina's mouth, taking note of Owen's memory and using her words. "No… I'll… I'll drink the coffee." Cristina reached out and grabbed the cup, her hands slightly brushing Owen's fingers. Owen felt the tingling in his fingers and met Cristina's eyes. It was magical how every time their eyes met, it felt as if they were the only two people left on the face of the earth.

* * *

Owen realized he had not put a single thing in his stomach since the night before. He was caught up with the Mr. Dunn's case and also had a trauma case that required immediate surgery. He grabbed the patient's chart and ran down to the lunch room to pick up a sandwich. He was engrossed looking over the patient's history so he can accurately advise the proper technique during surgery.

Cristina was throwing away her lunch when she saw Owen swiftly move in front of her. "Hey. I need to scream of kill someone, thought I'm leaning towards killing someone." Cristina complained to Owen.

"Uh, working." Owen was so absorbed in the chart he was unable to register Cristina's words. He needed to get to the patient fast, since he was scheduled to be in the OR with Derek in two hours.

Cristina stopped talking and moving and looked, once again, at Owen's backside. Twice today, she felt slighted by Owen. He was giving her mixed signals and she just had enough being toyed with emotions.

* * *

It took all of Cristina's might to not break down in surgery. The tension that accumulated between her and Meredith was suffocating. Meredith's words stabbed Cristina. Cristina would have never minded if anyone else had said what Meredith said. But coming from her person broke Cristina inside. She was tired. So tired of it all.

Owen saw Cristina leaning her hand against the elevator and the other against her hips. Her shoulders were slumped and head was down. He approached Cristina, "You okay? You wanna get a drink or something?" Owen wanted to comfort Cristina, if she would let him.

Cristina opened her eyes in disbelief. "Oh? Oh, now we're on again 'cause the mood suits you?"

Owen looked at Cristina, shocked at her stinging words.

"Cause I'm the sad little girl with no friend and I tripped your savior complex into action." Cristina's biting words continued.

"I-I don't…" Owen stammered, blind to Cristina's biting words.

"Usually I can deal with the hot and cold thing but not today," said Cristina with her hand holding off Owen. The elevator door opened and she stepped inside.

Owen drew back and blinked. The words had hurt and he wasn't sure what he had done for Cristina to feel this way. Whatever it was, it was not his intention and he wanted to fix it. He looked at Cristina in the elevator.

"Just leave me the hell alone." Cristina dismissed Owen with the wave of her hand and the elevator door closed, closing the space between the two.

Owen let out a heavy sigh. This was not his intention. He wasn't clear where he went wrong but Cristina was clearly hurt and annoyed with Owen's actions. He was unsure of how to rectify the situation.

* * *

Cristina knew her emotions were running high. She realized how much she was letting Owen in and felt the effect immediately. She was annoyed and couldn't hold back her harsh words. In truth, it felt good to say that to Owen. Felt good to release and stand up for herself. For now, she just wanted to be left alone. She just wanted to push whoever entered out with all her might, just for today.

For five years, Owen was shrouded in darkness and death. And now, for the first time in five years, he smiled from within. There was a soft beating in his heart that responded to the name, Cristina. The warmth from his heart spread, slowly but surely, over to his fingers, tingling when their hands brushed each others, and up to his lips, heat exploding whenever they met for a sweet tasting kiss.

In Owen's eyes, Cristina already flew solo, saving him from the depths of despair and darkness. Cristina's essence was his savior. Owen was determined to do a better job tomorrow.


	8. A Skewed Paradise

I currently hate the Grey's writers right now. UGH. Just wanted to say this. If anyone has any suggestions on how I can better write this story, please do share! Because unlike the Grey's writers, I will listen. Thanks for r+r and hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy (unfortunately) belongs to Shonda Rhimes and Co.

* * *

Owen settled in his dark brown leather sofa, put his leg up on the coffee table and dialed the most recent number on his phone. Actually, it was practically the only number Owen called since he got back. Owen made, if given, six calls a week, and five of those calls were to his childhood best friend, Steve, currently a lawyer in LA running his own private practice. Neither Steve nor Owen had much time but made it a point to check in with each other as often as they could.

Steve picked up on the first ring, "Owen?"

"What, waiting for my phone call?" teased Owen.

"Finally you called, baby. Been waiting for you all night." Steve took it one step further. Since Owen entered the Army, Steve was trained to pick up any number that might resemble Owen's in less than two rings. His heart dropped every single time Owen called and he never wanted to miss a call in case something happened. Now that Owen was back, Steve was definitely experiencing the Pavlov effect. "What's up?" asked Steve.

"Ah, nothing. Just got off. Are you busy?" Owen took a swig of his beer.

"No, no. It's fine. Needed a break anyway." Steve closed his folder containing the pending case.

"Need your advice. I'm starting this thing right now with someone and I think I screwed up," said Owen.

"Wait, wait. What are we talking about here? Because if my assumptions are correct, I daresay Owen Hunt is facing some woman issues here. Hallelujah!" screamed Steve.

"Jesus, calm down. I'm serious here." Owen did not have time for Steve's usual jabs.

"Fine. Before you tell me I can probably spell it out for you. You were being the clueless self that you normally are and you did something to piss off the lady and now she won't talk to you ever again. Right?" asked Steve.

"Right," answered Owen. "But this time, I care. I really care and I needed to fix this five minutes ago, which is why I called you five minutes ago."

"What do you mean you care?" scoffed Steve. "When was the last time you noticed when you were being an clueless ass to your girlfriend? I swear, I think you lucked out with either having the most patient or the stupidest girlfriends, no offense, in the past. You never cared, never held them back, always ended it clean. Quick and dirty–dude that's been your mantra!"

"No, not this time. I can't be a fool with her. I-I have no idea what I'm doing–she's completely out of my league," stammered Owen.

"Wow, this is a first. This is something else." Steve shook his head in disbelief. "You have it bad, bro."

"Shut up. I'm aware. Now help," demanded Owen.

"Fine, so what's the deal? How many dates have you been on?" asked Steve.

"Dates? None so far. We've shared some _'ahem'_ momen–"

Steve quickly cut Owen off. "No dates? You haven't even gone on a formal date yet? Goodness, how long have you been dragging this out? I don't have much time here. Bro, ask her out on a date first thing tomorrow."

Owen needed Steve for these reasons exactly. Sometimes, Owen needed someone to state the obvious that he was too dense to see. Owen opened his laptop and typed in the Google search engine, 'best date spot in Seattle."

/

Cristina felt a whole lot better after the lone party she held in her room. She grabbed a six-pack, locked her doors, stripped down to her bra and panties, and danced with music blasting in her earphones until she was spent. An hour was spent to release her anger towards Meredith, another hour to shake off her feelings towards Owen. This did the trick of releasing the emotions she had pent up for the whole day. She was as good as new to start anew tomorrow.

* * *

The security guards opened the door to allow access for Cristina to walk into the wing of prisoner's Dunn's room. _'Swear, this place feels more like a set of a soap series day after day,'_ Cristina thought. She walked in only to be greeted by Meredith and her alarmingly high ponytail that was held together by a pink scrunchie. Cristina could not help but form a smirk on her face. Without Cristina, Meredith was disintegrating before her very own eyes and Cristina had no intentions of informing Meredith to save face.

Cristina, Meredith and Derek walked into Mr. Dunn's room.

"Mr. Dunn, the swelling in your brain is increasing rapidly. The longer we wait to operate, the worse it gets," informed Derek. He turned to Cristina and Meredith, "You two will vigilantly monitor Mr. Dunn's elevating ICPS. You will do hourly neuro exams. When he goes unconscious, which he will, we'll rush him to surgery."

Cristina and Meredith were tied at their hips by the shackles of Mr. Dunn yet another day.

* * *

"Who's that lady touching Meredith?" asked Cristina, while flipping through Mr. Dunn's results from the latest neuro exams.

"Derek's mom," answered Izzie with an excited grin across her face.

That explained Meredith twitching and twisting. "Oh, that's why she looks so weird," answered Cristina.

"She does not look weird, okay?" Meredith was a product of Izzie's course on successful ways to impress moms. "I've got it under control. Mer is doing… great!"

It was too easy for Cristina not to take a jab at Meredith and Izzie. "Looks like she's gonna pee." Izzie rolled her eyes at Cristina.

Owen knew he was going to find Cristina around Mr. Dunn's room. As expected, he caught Cristina at the desk, checking a patient's chart. _'Okay, now or never,'_ Owen told himself.

"Dr. Yang would you mind checking on some of my post-ops? ER is swamped with traumas–_stop talking and get to the point_– also, would you like to go on a date with me?" Owen finally asked.

Cristina was stacking Owen's patients' charts when she registered Owen's final question. She was completely taken back, even slightly abashed. "I'm sorry?" Cristina managed to muster out.

"A date," replied Owen, while taking a quick look around. He noticed Izzie was standing right by and was staring at him, with amusement in her eyes. He was so focused on getting to Cristina, he failed to realize his surroundings. Owen fidgeted, finding his words and said in a lower tone, "You said not to play hot and cold with you, so, um, I'll pick you up around 8?"

Cristina looked at Owen and Owen sensed a bit of contemplation in her eyes. Before she could say no, he retreated and said in a louder voice, "Oh, and make sure Mr. Kenner in room 2212 gets that enema. He's been holding on to it for days." Owen cleared his throat, finally able to get the jitters out of his system.

"Okay," Cristina's answered trailed the back of Owen.

"Cause that wasn't weird," giggled Izzie, finding complete hilarity in the situation.

Cristina glanced at Izzie. She did not do giggling and girl talk, but upon seeing Izzie's glee that resembled the fluttering that was taking place in Cristina's stomach, Cristina could not control the grin sneaking from the corner of her mouth.

* * *

An official date. Owen dropped the bombshell on Cristina way too early in the day. Now all Cristina could think about was the date. And Izzie was not helping with the unsettling situation of going on a first date.

"I think it's nice. Your date. I think you and the pig murderer will make a really good couple." Izzie beamed.

"Okay." Cristina was thisclose to shooting Owen for asking her out in front of Izzie out of all people; the annoying, happy and probing, Izzie Stevens.

"What are you going to do on your date? What are you going to talk about?" Izzie prodded.

'_Oh gawd,'_ "Why do you care?" asked Cristina.

"You only get to do a first date once. It should be… fun and sexy… and ask really good questions. Ask him why he first decided he wanted to save lives. Ooh, ask him what his best surgery ever was," answered Izzie.

"I know how to go on a date," Cristina cut Izzie off and ended the conversation. Inside, Izzie's suggestion stirred the jitters in Cristina's stomach. The pressure was slowly building and she realized how long it had been since a 'first date.' Last time was with Burke and the only thing that save that date from becoming a disaster was a man falling at the table. Cristina knew this kind of luck did not strike twice. She needed to start making a list of smart questions to ask.

* * *

"Mom, this is Major Owen Hunt." Derek introduced his mom to Owen.

"Major," Mrs. Shepherd answered. "I was a navy nurse for 25 years. Where were you stationed, Major Hunt?"

"In the thick of it, in Iraq," responded Owen.

"Welcome home. You must have stories," delved Ms. Shepherd.

"Not any worth telling, ma'am." Owen walked away, chased away by his lingering, haunting past. Being reminded of the war times made him run away. He walked around and was flipping through the chart when Cristina appeared in front of him.

"I finished your post-ops." Cristina proudly stated.

Owen glanced and nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Yang." A brief awkward silence ensued, neither of them not knowing what to say.

Cristina broke the silence, "So what was your best surgery ever?"

Owen peered above his eyes and quizzically looked at Cristina, wondering if she really wanted him to answer this question now. It was also out of character for Cristina to ask personal questions, especially in a public place. She never even asked about his past relationships when he asked about her ex. "What?"

'_I hate Izzie,'_ thought Cristina. "Nothing." Cristina quickly turned around, feeling the flush on her face. "I, uh, stupid." _'Izzie better hide the rest of the day because if I get my hands on her…'_

Owen looked at Cristina walking away. He didn't have the answer for her question. He noted his palms were coated with sweat. He heard a low thumping of his heart in his ear and felt something caught at his throat. He rubbed his hands along his scrubs and cleared his throat. This date was getting to him as the day wore on. _'Stop making it a big deal than it already is,'_ Owen silently chided himself.

* * *

"We're gonna put this piece of skull in Mr. Dunn's abdomen. Why?" Derek asked Cristina, who was assisting in the OR.

"To allow the swelling in the brain to resolve the circulation of the abdomen preserves the bones marrow of the skull piece." Cristina confidently answered Derek's question and couldn't help but add, "Thanks for letting me scrub in."

"I guess we finally see eye to eye on something." Derek was having a hard time grappling with Meredith's empathy towards Mr. Dunn. He was working alongside with Cristina and for the first time felt that they were a team.

/

After surgery was over, Cristina dropped by the changing room to grab a sweater, only to find Meredith sitting with her absurd ponytail. Cristina was inclined to walk away but stopped at Meredith's stare. No matter how much Meredith had hurt Cristina, no matter how much they were not talking for the moment, she just could not let Meredith keep looking like a fool for the remainder of the day. She had to get this off her chest, "That ponytail… looks ridiculous." Because that is what friends would do for each other and Cristina was a friend.

* * *

Owen quickly wrapped up his day, not wanting to get caught in another surgery or a consult. He was off at six and wanted to make sure he had time to go home, shower and get ready. He was heading out when he ran into Mrs. Shepherd.

"Good night, Mrs. Shepherd. Nice to meet you," Owen bid goodnight to Derek's mother.

Mrs. Shepherd rose from her seat and asked, "Major Hunt, how have you been sleeping?"

"I'm sorry?" Owen was shocked to hear such a direct question.

Mrs. Shepherd knew better than anyone when it came to sleep troubles with war vets. "When I can't sleep, I use valerian root. I know you doctors don't think much of herbs, but I find it helps," she offered some words of advice. Mrs. Shepherd pored into Owen's eyes and asked, "Have you been sleeping… since you came back?"

Owen felt alarmed that someone caught onto his secret. His problems were his problems that he needed to solve for himself, and he was not willing to share it with anyone. "I'm fine, ma'am," Owen reassured Mrs. Shepherd, although it was more for himself. "I…I sleep just fine. Good night." He turned away and walked out of the hospital.

/

Owen unlocked the door to his apartment and dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. He turned on his lights, but the room still felt drabby and dark. Wanting to clear his head, he quickly jumped in and took a cold shower.

He checked the time when he got out and saw that he still had plenty of time. Normally, he would have called Steve to help him calm his nerves, but not when his nerves were to do with war. The war, he kept to himself and never spoke with anyone about it. He needed some comfort, something to take the edge off. He grabbed a bottle of Glenfiddich Single Malt Scotch along with a cup and settled down on his couch.

* * *

Cristina rushed home after she was off at 7 in order to get ready for her date with Owen. She did not have much more time for her nerves to take over. She ran home, showered and looked in her closet. She had no idea what she was in store for for the night. Knowing Owen, she knew she would not go to a 5-star, steak restaurant she went with Burke.

She decided to go casual but feminine. She grabbed a pair of black pants and a slim gray cashmere cowlneck sweater that hugged her curves. She topped the look with a thin black belt. She let her hair run wild and topped her clean makeup by accenting her lips with a rogue shade. She took a look at the mirror and approved, '_Sexy, like a black widow.'_ She looked at the mirror and saw it was 7:50–just in time for her date.

/

Owen quickly finished his first glass of scotch. It went down smooth and hit the spot. It immediately settled the nerves that were fluttering about in the pit of his stomach. Mrs. Shepherd's poring eyes had done a number on Owen. He saw that she did not believe his answer and it struck a nerve with Owen. He poured himself a second glass, more fuller than the first glass. He checked his watch–still only 7:00. His mind kept reverting back to Mrs. Shepherd's words. He took a sip to forget about his insomnia. He took another sip to forget about his nightmares. He took a large gulp to forget about his flashblacks. He emptied his glass in hopes to erase the memories from Iraq.

* * *

Cristina was nursing the glass of wine for an hour and a half by now. She was done waiting for Owen and at this point, was pretty sure he stood her up. Within the first 30 minutes of waiting, butterflies were swirling, fluttering around as if in a field full of blossomed flowers. The next 30 minutes, she was angry. Cristina did not wait around for guys to show up and was annoyed to find herself sitting on her sofa, waiting for an hour for Owen who very well might not even show up. Cristina gave up the last 30 minutes. But she didn't get ready for nothing; she decided to stick around in her clothes as long as possible.

'_Ding Dong,'_ The loud ring of the doorbell jolted Cristina from the sofa. She abrasively opened the door, half expecting Owen, half expecting a neighbor asking for sugar. Lo' and behold stood Owen in front of Cristina, holding a small bouquet of beautiful red orange flowers. "I didn't want you to think that I stood you up." Owen offered the flowers and stumbled into Cristina's apartment.

"Are you drunk?" Cristina looked at Owen with incredulous eyes.

Owen shook his head and said in an exasperated voice, "I haven't been on a date in five years, since before I entered the military. I-I just wanted to take the edge off."

"You're drunk? You're late and drunk?" brazenly asked Cristina. Cristina still could not believe Owen had the guts to show up, late and wasted, let alone have the brain to pick up flowers on the way.

Owen sputtered his words, talking with his hands to make a point. "I will make this up to you, I promise. This is not what you deserve." Thoughts were hazy in Owen's mind and blurred into one. "I know this is not what you deserve and I will make this up to you. I-I promise." Owen repeated his words, hoping Cristina will understand the second time if she did not understand the first time.

Cristina had enough. "Okay, before you say anything else. Dr. Good Times, you need to shower. You smell like a distillery." Cristina had no intention of keeping this wasted man any longer to explain his actions. Cristina turned around to open her door. Owen mistook her words, glanced around room and quickly ran towards the first bathroom he saw. "No, not here!" Cristina yelled in frustration.

/

"YANG! YANG!" Owen's voice boomed out from Cristina's bathroom.

Alarmed, not knowing whether he hurt himself in the shower, Cristina ran into her bathroom.

"I thought of it. I thought of my best surgery ever." Owen was standing in her shower, fully clothed and shoes still on.

"You're wearing shoes in my shower," complained Cristina, '_wondering how much more of a mess can this guy be?'_

The cold water had woken some sense into Owen and his mind was starting to find a clear field. "My first blast injury in the field."

"Uh-huh," Cristina placed her hands on her hips, patience running thin with the man in front of her.

"The body was mangled–homemade explosive device, copper and wires embedded five inches deep in the abdomen, arms and legs hanging on by threads of skin. I'd never seen anything like it, not in a textbook, not in residency. Incredible, body full of holes, trauma surgeon's dream." Owen described the sight he was seeing before him in the shower.

Cristina's face softened as she took in Owen's words. He was sharing something that was obviously something deep and personal, despite the fact that he was wasted.

"I put tourniquets on where I could, started tying off the arteries with my bare hands, but the bleeding was everywhere–stomach, chest. The best pressure I could think of was my own body so, I-I laid there for two hours on top of him, just not moving, trying to keep that dam from bursting with my hands, my knees, my elbows. Body… full of holes… and he never bled out, I wouldn't let him." Owen was speaking from the deepest part of his memories and pain was etched on his face.

Cristina's heart tugged at Owen's words. She knew better than anyone what it felt like to use their own body to keep one from bleeding out. She did that when she was only nine years old. The pain was only felt by those who suffered, and Cristina, in that moment, felt his pain.

"He made it to the hospital, he made it home. A month later, he… he sent me a letter thanking me for saving his life, and then he shot himself. That was my best surgery. And my worst." Owen bared his soul and poured his pain along the cold water seeping through his clothes and down his body.

Cristina saw the rawness in Owen's eyes. She realized this wasn't the only incident that Owen held with him since his return. She was enlightened with the fact that he must carry hundreds of those stories, having served in the Army for five full years. This was just one from hundreds of freshly bleeding wounds in Owen's heart.

Cristina kicked off her heels and opened the shower door. She cautiously entered and was shocked at how cold the water was. She reached out and stroked Owen's face, wanting to provide a warm touch to his cold face. Owen stood with his eyes closed, reliving the joy he felt when he saved the man and the pain that came flooding once he received the letter. Cristina loosened the wet tie and relieved Owen from the tight hold of the tie, of the trauma. Owen opened his eyes and met Cristina's through the streaming of cold water. She took in his face and caressed with tears pooling in her eyes. She tiptoed and reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him, wanting to close his wound with the pressure of her body and whispered, "Thank you for sharing."

Cristina let go and turned the cold water off. She stroked his cheek and said, "You're going to get a cold. C'mon let's get you out of these clothes."

Cristina went out of the bathroom to get a large towel. When she returned, she found Owen out of the bathroom, shirtless and fumbling with his belt. Cristina took his wet shirt and jacket and threw it back in the shower. She turned around and helped Owen unclasp the buckle of his belt. "That's as far as I'm going to help you," she stated. "Dry yourself with the towel." Owen grabbed Cristina's waist and leaned forward, going in for a kiss. Cristina felt the stubble on his face and smelled whisky on his breath. She slightly turned her head and gave a kiss, next to his lips instead. "Wrap yourself with this and come out when you're done."

Cristina left the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She took a change of clothes and went to Callie's room to change and got herself ready for bed. She returned to her room after 15 minutes and found Owen sleeping like a baby in her bed, with the towel on the floor.

/

Cristina noted the irony of her situation. For a year, she's been envisioning having hot steamy sex with a gorgeous man, naked in her bed, after a night of drinking. She even contemplated on pulling a Meredith but decided she'd rather be celibate and single, than end up sleeping with a McDreamy.

This was not what she had in mind. Sure, the drunkenness and nakedness in all its glory was bulls-eye of her roaming thoughts for the past year. But the baggage that came with it, was not what she had visualized. However, despite all the red flags Owen raised, she realized she was much more invested than she had originally thought. Owen was drowning in his pain and Cristina could not turn her back from him. It scared Cristina to death that rather than let Owen drown and suffer on his own, she was finding herself preparing to fight Owen's battles as if they were her own.


End file.
